


Not On Fire

by ctrling



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Angst, Arson, Getting Together, M/M, Pyromania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 92,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctrling/pseuds/ctrling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan Howell is not on fire . . .</p><p>Dan doesn't do friends. He hangs out with Louise because it makes his parents happy, sets fires in his free time to keep his anger at bay, tries his best to go unnoticed, and dreams of the day when he'll go off to college in a completely different state with new people. Phil Lester, the new guy with a police officer for a father, is definitely not, in any way, a part of his plan. </p><p>But Louise has a different plan for him, one with befriending Phil Lester at the top of Things He Absolutely Must Do, despite how he feels about the situation. And every single time he turns around, it seems she has a new idea to help the budding friendship.</p><p>Now, Dan's struggling to please Louise and his parents, maintain good grades that will get him into a good college, and find time to do the one thing that actually calms him down. </p><p>So maybe being an arsonist in high school wasn't one of his better ideas. </p><p>. . . but everything around him is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's only been a day since I decided to delete the original Not On Fire, but it felt wrong to give up on a story that I spent a good chunk of my summer working on. Plus, Not On Fire is the first phanfic I've ever written and because of that reason, it means a lot to me. When I first started writing it, I loved it, but the story quickly veered off course and took a turn for the worse. For this reason, I have decided to rewrite it with better character development, better pacing, and more angst than before (don't worry; it's not going to be super angsty, but it's not going to get super fluffy until the end). I haven't finished planning out the story, but I had a burst of inspiration when I was at church today, so I decided to go ahead and write the prologue. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it way more than the first one; I know I do.
> 
> As always you can find this on wattpad and tumblr under the username ctrlphan.

Orange and yellow flames flicker for a few seconds before the wind takes them. The fire is out almost as soon as it starts, leaving behind the faint smell of smoke as the air carries it away.

                Dan curses, dumping more gasoline on the old swing in an attempt to make it highly flammable. He’s done this only a few times beforehand, in the summer when the wind was at bay and the air was humid, but it’s fall now, complete with dropping temperatures and chilling winds that make it hard to get a good fire started.

                The area surrounding the swing is relatively open, hidden only by distance as the playground is stored away in the corner of the park. Barely anybody comes here during the day when the sun is shining bright, so it’s completely free rein at night. The playground is run down anyway and practically abandoned, save for a few people who occasionally stop by it to get drunk, so he doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong. If anything, he thinks he’s helping everyone out: he’s getting rid of something that’s takes up more space than it’s worth all while fueling the fire inside of him.

                He lights another match, being extra careful to shield it from the wind, and once the flame is a reasonable size, he quickly throws it at the seat of the swing. It lands in the middle and the fire quickly spreads across the gas covered surface and before he knows it, it’s swallowing the swing whole.

                He steps away from it to admire his work, a sense of pride taking over him, but the euphoria vanishes completely seconds later when he feels his phone vibrate in the pocket of his skinny jeans. Sighing and cursing under his breath in annoyance, he pulls his phone out, reading the screen. Unsurprisingly, it’s Louise, asking him where he is. He’s only just finished reading it when another text alert pops up.

                Louise: _Hey, are we still on for tonight??_

_Shit_ , he thinks, quickly typing out a response that says he’ll be there in twenty minutes. He had forgotten all about their plans when he had decided to finally burn the swing that had been taunting him and begging him to burn it for so long. After he had gotten used to his strange passion (which, by the way, was never supposed to go beyond one fire), he had known it was only a matter of time until he gave into his desires to set the swing on fire. It’s only his luck that he decides to give in on the night that he _promised_ Louise he would hang out with her.

                Louise’s house is only ten minutes away from the park, but he takes another five minutes to stand a safe distance away from the burning swing before he leaves, watching the flames dance in the wind out of the corner of his eye when he finally starts walking away.

                This is his messed up life, kept secret by his sheer invisibility, with no chance of getting caught, and that’s how he likes it. 


	2. The First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as an FYI, this story isn't going to be updated again for the next two weeks as I finish planning this story, HSE, and writing my PBB fic, but after I finish planning this, I'll start updating regularly. I just got super inspired to write this and wrote this all today, but I honestly think it's one of the best chapters I've ever written out of all the stories that I've written. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it as much as I do!

Dan wakes up to the shrieking sound of his alarm clock and rolls over in his bed to cover his head with a pillow. If there is one day that he hates just as much as the first day back to school after summer break, it’s the first day back to school after Christmas break. In both cases, he gets used to staying up all night on Tumblr and sleeping all day long with the occasional fire sometime after dark. And he absolutely hates waking up earlier than ten o’clock when he usually waits until noon to roll out of bed.

                His alarm clock is unfortunately placed on his desk which is too far away from his bed for him to lean over and hit snooze, so he listens to the ringing as the pillow is unsuccessful in blocking out the horrific noise.

                Soon, the sound of loud knocking on his door mixes in with the ringing and he huffs in protest when he hears his mom say, “You need to get up or you’ll be late for school.”

                Most of Dan’s motivation to do well in school flew out the window the same day that he decided setting fires was a great pastime. Sure, he wants to go to a college far from here and to do so he needs good grades and other outstanding qualities. Well, the only one he’s got covered is the good grades part. He doesn’t do any after school activities—unless you count arson as one and something tells him most people don’t—and he doesn’t volunteer anywhere. He doesn’t even have a good attendance record, for God’s sake, and he definitely doesn’t feel like starting one today.

                “I don’t care,” he groans into his pillow, his voice muffled because of it. “I don’t want to go to school.”

                His mom throws open his door, the knob hitting the wall loudly, and marches over to what he assumes is his alarm clock as seconds later, the sound of its insistent ringing is gone. He sighs, appreciating the silence of the room for a few seconds before his comforter is rudely ripped off of his body, the pillow following suit. He rolls over in his bed to look at his mom, who has an angry expression on her face and doesn’t look impressed in the least bit.

                “Dan, you have this semester left and then you can be done with school for all I care, but please, for the love of god, get out of bed and get ready. I don’t want to be late to work,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

                He looks at her, blinking lazily, barely processing the words that she’s saying. “You don’t have to be late to work; I don’t need you to take me to school.”

                One of the things that he hates about his parents is that they refuse to get him a car. For some reason that he totally doesn’t understand, they don’t think he’s responsible enough to own one and they’re not even willing to let him borrow one of their cars from time to time to drive himself to school. This means that even though he’s a senior with a driver’s license he’s still stuck being driven to school by his mom. This also means that he has to walk to whatever place he wants to burn.

                “Yes, you do. I don’t trust you to get to school if I don’t,” she says angrily. “Hell, I don’t even trust you to get to school when I bring you myself.”

                Another thing about his parents is that they don’t trust him with anything. They used to be too trusting and he took advantage of that trust and he took advantage of the fact that they would do anything to connect with them, but once they caught on to what he was doing, it was game over. Their relationship hasn’t been the same since. They still care too much about his social life and his school career, but they aren’t willing to do anything to prove this to him. If they were, he’d probably have a car.

                To be honest, they were considering buying him a car for his seventeenth birthday, but that was also around the time when they were catching onto how he was taking advantage of them, so he never did get the car.

                “Fine,” Dan says, huffing irritably. “Just get out so I can get changed.”

                “If I have to come up here a second time, I’m going to bring a bucket of cold water with me,” his mom says.

                Dan closes his eyes, shielding himself from the harsh brightness of his ceiling light, and waits until two minutes after the door shuts before he finally gets out of bed.

                Despite it being winter, complete with cold weather and harsh winds, Dan’s only in his boxers when he steps out of bed. He had felt cold while he was still in the bed, but the air hits him from all sides once the comfort of his bed is taken away from him.

                He takes his sweet time getting ready, going through his morning routine at a slow pace. When he’s straightening his hair, his mom comes up to check on him. He groans immediately once he sees her in the mirror because every single time she’s seen him straightening his hair since he told her he was bisexual, she’s said the same joke over and over again. Hearing the joke repeated so many times actually made him regret coming out to her, but he had done it because he doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal, so as soon as he came to terms with his sexuality, he had sat her down, along with his father, and told them like it was just any other news. Of course, they had cried and told him repeatedly that they were proud of him and when they hugged him, he sat motionless, his muscles tense, as he waited for it to be over. He’s paid the price for that day a million times over since then.

                “Has it worked yet?” his mother asked laughing, the angrier version of herself from only ten minutes ago gone.

                “It’s straightening my hair, isn’t it?” he responds with annoyance present in his voice. “It’s doing exactly what it’s supposed to do.”

                He knows that this joke is her way of reiterating the fact that she’s okay with him not being straight, but he doesn’t care because he doesn’t think that she needs to stress this over and over again. In fact, he didn’t even want a response when he told them. He just wanted them to know so he wouldn’t feel like he was making a big deal out of something that wouldn’t be a big deal if people weren’t so heteronormative.

                “Fine,” his mom says, her hands raised in mock surrender. “Just hurry up; you’re already running late.”

                It takes him fifteen more minutes to get ready and by that time, school has already started.

                The atmosphere in the car is tense. His mom is mad with him because he’s going to be late to school and she might be late to work, and he’s mad because he would rather be lying in bed right now than heading towards his own personal hell.

                “I know you hate school,” his mom says, turning the car off, “but please, make an effort this time around. You don’t have much time left and you’ll regret it if you don’t go out and live your senior year.”

                “Yeah, whatever,” Dan says, tacking on a quick _I love you_ at the end to please his mother.

                “I love you, too,” she says as he shuts the door.

                It’s not that he doesn’t love her because he does—he loves her and his father both—but he’s in a perpetual state of annoyance at them both. This started shortly after he turned thirteen, when he was going through that staged where he felt that he was too cool for them. He was officially a teenager and his stereotypical idea of a teenager was that they blew off their parents and did what they wanted, so that’s what he did. He’s grown out of that stage, but the irritation never left because his parents have always found ways to annoy him since then.

                He’s on a first name basis with the secretary at the front desk as he’s late a lot of the time, and so it’s no surprise when he hears her voice as soon as he steps through the door.

                “Late again, Dan?” Carol asks, staring at him pointedly over the top of her glasses. “I thought you said you were going to try harder this time around.”

                “I couldn’t pass up seeing you again, Carol,” Dan says charismatically, a silly smile playing on his lips.

                Dan doesn’t act this way with anyone else, but he knows that it gets on her nerves, so once in a blue moon, he pretends to act all flirtatiously just to get a rise out of her.

                “ _Dan_ ,” she scolds, pushing her glasses back up her nose, “you know how I feel about you saying stuff like that.”

                “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth,” he says, laughing.

                “Just get to class.”

                Dan’s locker is in the main hall and typically, this sucks. The hall is always crowded in the morning before the bell rings and during passing times, but since he’s late, the hallway is clear, save for one or two people who are heading towards their classes with their books in hand. Just like he did when getting ready, he takes his time at his locker, taking what he doesn’t need out of his backpack and gathering the books that he does need.

                Just as he goes to shut his locker, he feels a tap on his shoulder and he turns around, closing his locker as he does so.

                Standing in front of him is a guy who he’s never seen before. He’d even go so far as to say that the guy is an attractive stranger. He has black hair, styled in a fringe that goes the opposite direction of Dan’s own fringe. His eyes are easily the prettiest shade of blue that Dan’s seen, with mixes of yellow and green near the center, and he has a toothy, goofy smile on his face, even though Dan sees no reason as to why he would be smiling so big. His hands are placed awkwardly in his pants pocket, with some fingers in the pocket and others sticking out at a weird angle. He doesn’t understand how it could possibly be comfortable, but it fits whoever this guy is.

                “What do you want?” he asks with a hint of agitation. He’s only slightly less annoyed than he normally would be because he doesn’t feel like going to class and this guy is making it easy for him to prolong doing so.

                “I was wondering if you could show me to my class. I have a map of the school, but I can’t seem to figure it out.” 

                Normally, Dan would say no, but maybe it’s because it’s the first day back or maybe it’s because the guys hot or maybe—and this is the most likely answer—it’s because Dan _really_ doesn’t want to go to school.

                “Sure,” Dan says. “What class is it?”

                “I have English Mrs. Kintigh in room 253,” the guy says, looking at a piece of paper in his hands that Dan assumes is his schedule.

                Dan groans. It’s just his luck that this guy would have the same class as him. So much for having an excuse to be late to class.

                “Follow me,” Dan says, motioning with his hand in the direction of the class. “It’s just up those stairs and around the corner.”

                Mrs. Kintigh is in the middle of teaching when they walk in and she pauses in the middle of a sentence as Dan takes his seat in the back of the class. He hears a few mumbles from the front of the class room as the guy talks to her and shortly after, he sees her point to the seat right next to him and the guy—whatever his name is—walks over to him, taking a seat in the empty chair on the right side of him.

                “My name’s Phil, by the way,” the guy says, a smaller smile on his face.

                Class is a bore and goes by in a blur. Dan writes notes when he’s supposed to and spaces off when the teacher goes off on another tangent.

                He can’t stop thinking about fires. The last time he set a fire was in the fall, closer to the start of the school year, but due to weather, he hasn’t been able to set any substantial fires since then. He’s burned the bear that’s located in the back corner of his room, but he hasn’t destroyed it yet and it hardly fulfils his desires. And it’s consumed him for so long, but he won’t be able to do anything about it tonight, probably won’t be able to do anything about it until late February or early March and that’s only if he’s lucky. So he’ll have to rely on burning old possessions to calm his nerves.

                When classes is ever, Dan hurries to gather all of his things and leave, but right as he moves to head out of the classroom, Phil taps on his back.

                “What’s your name?” he asks.

                “Dan,” he answers shortly.

                “I was wondering if you could show me to my next class,” Phil says, “if that isn’t too much of an inconvience.”

                Luckily, Louise is right behind Phil, so Dan pulls her aside and tells Phil, “I have to get to my next class, but Louise would love to show you.”

                Dan’s an asshole and a horrible friend, but that’s what Louise signed up for and he feels little remorse when she shoots him an annoyed glare before smiling at Phil and leading him out of the classroom.

                The only reason he even hangs out with Louise is because it makes his parents happy and considering the majority of what he does angers them, he feels that it’s only right to do one thing to please them. And Louise isn’t so bad. She likes to hang out with him when he’d rather be off setting fires, but she’s nice enough and she gives him someone to rant to, which is something that he does a lot. So he can’t exactly complain, but if it wasn’t for his parents, he’s not sure that he would talk to her at all.

* * *

 

Dan would almost go so far as to say that this is his lucky day because he has lunch with Louise, but it also turns out that he has lunch with Phil.

                “Hi,” Phil says, standing behind a vacant chair at Dan’s table. “Can I sit here?”

                “Sure,” Louise says with a large smile on her face, just as Dan’s about to say no. She flashes Dan an annoyed look before turning back to face Phil and motions towards the seat. “The seats yours if you want it.”

                Phil places his tray on the table and takes a seat, the goofy smile from before present on his face. “Thanks.”

                “You’re new here, right?” Louise asks.

                Dan watches, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two as they converse.

                “Yeah,” Phil says. “I just moved here from Buffalo.”

                “Oh, I’ve been there,” Louise says happily. “My grandparents live there.”

                A few times, Phil tries to include Dan in the conversation, but he answers question with short one word answers and keeps quiet the rest of the time. He takes back what he said earlier about him being cute; he’s annoying.

                He thinks that, if Phil sits there tomorrow, he’ll respond, but the first days are always the worst days and it’s hard for him to be considerate. Plus, he hasn’t even had the chance to burn his bear all of Christmas break because his parents have been on his back, so he’s extra irritable today. He’d still rather not talk to him, but he’s already lectured enough by his parents and he knows that Louise will start lecturing him, too, if he doesn’t try to be nice to Phil.

                But his purpose isn’t _this_ ; it isn’t making friends. His purpose is setting fires and he needs to start remembering that if he’s going to survive the second half of his senior year.

* * *

 

After school, he goes over to Louise’s house because he doesn’t want his parents to start to worry about him again like they did last year when he literally hung out with no one and they thought he was starting to get depressed.

                “So what do you think of Phil?” Louise asks when they’re sitting on her bed watching television.

                It’s four o’clock, school having ended an hour ago, and Dan’s bored. His original plan had been to go home, burn the right paw of his Winnie the Pooh bear, and then spend the rest of his evening browsing the fire tag on Tumblr, but clearly, he isn’t going to get that opportunity any time soon.

                “He’s annoying,” Dan says simply, his eyes staring at the T.V. screen even though he’s not even watching the show.

                “You think everyone’s annoying,” Louise says and groans, dragging her hands over her face. “What am I going to do with you? Didn’t you promise your parents that you would try to make more friends?”

                “That’s because everyone is annoying and yes, I did promise them that, but I think all of us knew that I was lying when I did that.”

                Dan doesn’t even understand why his parents try anymore. The last time he complied with his parents’ wishes in the last two years was when he agreed to give Louise a chance; most of the time, he just blows them off, so Dan’s not really sure what Louise is even the tiniest bit surprised that he’s not doing what he said he would do.

                “At least give Phil a chance. You don’t even know him; he’s a really good guy from what I can tell and you haven’t known him long enough for you to really decide whether or not you like him.”

                Dan had called it: Louise is giving him yet another lecture. He swears, sometimes she’s more like a third parent than a friend.

                “I’ll think about it,” Dan says with no intentions of actually doing so because Dan’s a bad person and he knows it.


	3. Dinner and a Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went dress shopping yesterday and got my homecoming dress, which was fun, and I've been really busy today so I'm sorry the update is late, but this fic has officially started and will be updated every week (probably on Sunday) from now on!!

Between smoking and burning things, Dan goes through lighters fairly quickly, and because he can’t ask his parents to drive him to the store every time he needs a new one without it sounding suspicious, he has to walk to the store in the cold January weather.

                He leaves without telling his mom or his dad where he’s going and slips out the back door unnoticed with a flimsy leather jacket on.

                It’s a particularly windy day that’s needle-sharp and pricks his skin with every blow. The frost-covered grass crunches under foot as Dan works his way from his backyard to the sidewalk in front of his house. He has to duck his head down to cover his face and he can already tell his cheeks are going to be a nice rosy pink color. He watches as the grass abruptly switches over to sidewalk and lifts his head so that he doesn’t run in to anybody.

                The store is a few minutes away on foot, luckily, but by the time he reaches it, he’s shivering, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. His fingers feel almost numb even though they’ve been in his pockets the whole time.

                It’s brighter inside than it is outside, with harsh lights shining down over head, as it’s nearing nighttime. Dan has to squint his eyes to adjust at first, and he pauses near the doors to give him some time to warm up.

                He always buys more than just a lighter because he doesn’t want to explain why he’s in constant need of a new one, so he goes to a new cashier each time and hides the lighter under snack food in the hopes that no one thinks anything of it.

                He walks the store without any specific path and comes across items that he wants to buy randomly, ending up with a basket full of various junk foods. Once he decides that he has enough in his basket to make the lighter seem insignificant, he ends back to the front.

                The cigarettes catch his eye and he moves to turn away, but he can’t even remember the last time he bought a pack as he’s been living off of the same one for a while now, but he’s running low. He doesn’t smoke that much, maybe a pack every few months, and only when he’s stressed and doesn’t have something else to burn.

                He heads for the cash register with the cigarettes instead and picks up a lighter when he gets in line. Now he has a solid excuse as to why he’s buying the lighter (of course he would need it to light the cigarette) but he keeps everything in his basket anyway, deciding to splurge and treat himself.

                The lighter is an essential part of burning something, but gasoline is also important in getting the fire to spread. However, Dan’s dad keeps gas in the garage on a regular basis (“You’ll never know when you’re going to need it,” he always says) and never notices when it goes missing, so long as Dan fills it up every so often.

                “I’m going to need to see an ID,” the man at the cash register—his name tag reads Matt—says when Dan asks for a pack.

                “Here you go,” Dan says, offering a fake smile as he pulls his fake ID out of his pocket and hands it to the guy.

                Dan had gotten one shortly before his seventeenth birthday over the summer when he grew a foot. He uses it to buy cigarettes and nothing else, which he considers is pretty mild considering he could be using it to get a lot worse stuff, but he’s not sure his parents would see it that way. They’d probably flip if they found out he smokes.

                The guy gives him the ID back and allows him to go through with his purchase.

                The sky has only gotten darker, the moon visible above the treetops, and with the dark sky, the temperature has dropped considerably. It’s started snowing, too; it’s a light snow and has barely covered the ground, but it’s cold to touch. The wind has calmed down to a slight breeze, but the temperature and the wind are still a sharp combination.

                Dan pulls the light jacket tighter around his frame and folds his arms across his chest. He speed walks to his house to get out of the freezing weather, but his fingers still manage to feel numb in the time it takes him to get home, and his hair gets snowflakes in it and the tip of his nose turns red like Rudolph’s.

                The living room light is on, along with the kitchen light, so there’s no chance that he can get in without one of his parents noticing. The front door is closer, however, and he’s two seconds away from freezing half to death, so he picks the front door.

                His dad’s sitting on the couch when he walks in and he toes off his shoes as his dad watches him closely.

                “Where did you go?” he asks.

                “To the store,” Dan replies.

                “Why didn’t you tell someone?”

                Dan shrugs his shoulders and brushes past his father, without even looking into the kitchen to see his mother, and walks to his bedroom. He drops the contents of the bag on his desk and skims through it to find his lighter.

                For some strange reason, he’s always stored his lighter in his closet, next to his bear, since before he even started burning the bear. This time isn’t any different. He immediately opens his closet door and reaches around until he finds the stuffed animal in the back corner, placing the new lighter right next to it and grabbing the old one.

                He always keeps his old one until he gets the new one. It’s another strange thing that he does, but he doesn’t feel comfortable without a lighter, even if it’s practically useless.

                The old one goes in the trash as soon as he’s closed his closet and once he’s done with that, he starts putting away all of his other stuff. The cigarettes go in the bottom drawer of his desk, way in the back, and the snack food goes in front of it so that the cigarettes are perfectly hidden.

                He doesn’t actually know if his parents search through his stuff or not, but he always hides the things they wouldn’t approve of just in case.

                “Dinner’s ready!” his mom shouts right as he’s putting the last box away.

                Dan can smell the food all the way from his room, but the smell only gets stronger the closer he gets to the kitchen. They’re having chicken and twice-baked potatoes. His mom’s setting the table when he walks in and his dad’s sitting in his normal spot, right next to where his mother sits and directly across from where he sits.

                His parents eyes follow him as he sits down and he pretends to not notice at first, focusing his attention on the food in front of him, but he can feel their eyes burning into him and the feeling only grows stronger the longer it lasts. Finally, he cracks and looks up at them before he can even finish cutting a piece of chicken.

                “What?” he says, his eyes darting back and forth between them.

                “We’re really worried about you, honey,” his mom says in her motherly voice that’s filled with worry but coated in candy. “You leave and don’t tell us where you’re going and somedays, you don’t come back for hours and you only hang out with Louise, no one else.”

                “I only hang out with Louise,” Dan says in an irritated voice, “because she’s my only friend.”  He stabs at his chicken with his fork and moves it around on his plate, but he doesn’t eat. “I don’t tell you where I’m going because I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and I don’t need you guys to worry about me.”

                “Dan,” his dad scolds, “as long as you live under are roof and are under the age of eighteen, you are our responsibility and we have every right to worry about you. We’re your parents.”

                “Well you have nothing to worry about. Louise is my friend and she keeps me under control,” Dan says. “I just like to go outside sometimes and walk around. Is that alright?”

                “Yes, but please, just tell us next time,” his mother says, not noticing the lie.

                The rest of dinner is tense at best, with angry expressions and people refusing to talk, and Dan eats his food quickly to get out of there as fast as he can. He puts his plate away after he finishes eating and storms upstairs.

                His phone is on his desk and once he sees it, he decides to invite Louise over.

                Even though he only befriended her to make his parents happy, he can’t deny that he likes hanging out with her. He could do with a little less of her sometimes, but mainly, he likes her and they hang out almost every day after school and over the weekend if he’s not already busy with something else. Most of the time, hanging out just means being in the same room as each other while Dan browses Tumblr and Louise does whatever it is that she does. Sometimes she gets on Tumblr, but she switches it up sometimes. Occasionally, she watches Dan and Dan has to blacklist tags without her noticing.

                Louise gets there in roughly ten minutes.

                “Where did you go earlier?” she asks, walking in and closing the door behind her with her purse in hand. “You know your parents care about you, right?”

                “I know,” Dan says, sighing. Louise is the only person who can get him to open up, and she still can’t do it all of the time. “But all I did was walk around—I promise. I care about them, too; I just don’t appreciate it when they’re overprotective.”

                “Dan,” Louise says disapprovingly, sitting down right beside him. “You can’t keep doing this to them. You’re going to go off to college soon; it’s time you start acting like an adult.”

                “That’s what I’m doing,” Dan groans, falling back on his bed, so his feet are hanging off and he’s lying down. “Adults don’t tell their parents where they’re going.”

                “They do when they live with them.”

                “I didn’t invite you over here so you could lecture me. I get enough of that from you at school and at your house.”

                “I wouldn’t lecture you if you didn’t give me so many things to lecture you about.”

                “I’m not trying to.”

                “Just, appreciate the fact that you have parents who care about you.”

                For as long as Dan’s known her, her parents have always been a sore subject. Louise has never really gotten along with them because her mom got pregnant young and didn’t know how to raise her for her childhood years. Her dad helped out as best as he could, but they worked a lot and missed a lot of her events. They’re better by far now, but Louise has made it quite clear to Dan that she doesn’t understand how he can just take his parents for granted.

                “I do,” Dan says. “It’s just . . . I’m not very good with expressing my feelings.”

                Dan ends up on Tumblr for the rest of the time Louise is over and she watches over his shoulder, occasionally doing something on her phone, and they make light conversation every so often, mainly about the different posts on his dashboard.

                When Louise leaves, she says, “Remember, your parents love you and they care about you. Those are good things, not bad ones.”

                Shortly after Louise leaves, his mom comes into his room and sits at the end of his bed. “Louise is a good friend, and I’m glad you have her. I don’t care if you don’t have any other friends, but I do care when you leave without telling me. It would break my heart if one day I woke up and you weren’t here and we lost you forever.”

                Dan sighs and stares up at the ceiling. “You won’t lose me; I promise. I never go out without my phone and I always stay close; I promise.”

                “I believe you, honey,” his mom says, “but sometimes that isn’t enough. I want you to open up more and tell us more stuff. I get that you’re a teenager, but we’re always going to be your parents and we’re always going to care about you.”

                The bumps on the ceiling make shapes when you stare at them long and hard and he focuses on the different forms instead of his mother’s words. This lecture feels exactly like the one Louise gave him not too long ago and the thought of going through it again makes him need a smoke or a fire.

                His mother lets out a deep breath and gets up off his bed, heading towards the door to his room and opening it. “I love you.”

                When she closes the door, he mumbles out a quiet, “I love you, too,” and means every word.


	4. Lunch with Phil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I know this update is way late. I had homecoming on Saturday and then I didn't feel good on Sunday. I've been trying to find the time to write this throughout the week, but I've had a lot of homework. 
> 
> Furthermore, I know this is really short and a bit of a filler chapter.. The next update will be on Sunday like normal and will be much longer.

“I invited Phil to have lunch with us again,” Louise says, sitting down. “I hope you don’t mind.”

                “If you really cared to know how I felt, you wouldn’t have invited him without asking me.”

                Louise has this thing about her which Dan refers to as her “motherly complex.” She insists that it’s not actually a thing, but Louise always thinks she knows what’s better for Dan even if Dan thinks something else is better. And this often leads to her making decisions on his behalf—like right now.

                She’s worse than his mom, however, because she doesn’t take no for an answer even after Dan’s complained for thirty minutes. In fact, she never cracks; Dan does. She’s pretty much able to convince Dan to do anything, within reason, but everything she tries to get him to do is within reason. Sometimes her attempts fall short of success, but she always manages to get him to change his mind for at least a few minutes—which is better than nothing and way better than his parents can do.

                “I’m doing what I have to do to make sure that you’ll actually give him a chance.”

                “I said I’d give him a chance, didn’t I?”

                “I know you better than that.”

                Dan sighs, but doesn’t say anything. It’s not worth it. He knows how it’ll play out if he pursues the conversation any more: she’ll lecture him and make him feel guilty and he’ll agree and then he’ll regret it, but it will be too late.

                He pushes the food around on his tray, spinning the food around mindlessly with his finger.

                The weather is calm, eerily so, and its tense atmosphere has found its way inside. There’s a hesitance in the air, suspenseful almost. The calm before the storm.

                Dan knows he’s being melodramatic in thinking that something big is about to go down—most likely, lunch with Phil will just be awkward and tense—but he feels as if he’s going to let Louise down, which is not a new feeling, but he doesn’t know why it’s surfaced now.

                A tray hitting the table directly across from him shakes him from his thoughts and Dan looks up to see Phil sit down.

                “Hi,” Phil says, smiling. Dan doesn’t know whether or not the greeting is directed at Louise, him, or both of them, but he doesn’t care.

                Dan stares at Phil as if he’s an invader who doesn’t belong. In some ways, he is. He’s sitting here, but he doesn’t know anything about them, apart from whatever Louise might have told him, but he doesn’t share the memories that Dan and Louise do and there’s nothing that can change the past.

                “Hi,” Louise says. She gives Dan a sharp look.

                “Hi,” Dan mumbles out reluctantly and returns Louise’s gaze, but his is more harsh and angry. In a way, it’s almost as if he’s saying _are you happy now_.

                Louise smiles victoriously so wide that her teeth show and her eyes shine. Dan wants to be mad—if it was anybody else, he would be mad—but he can’t be mad at Louise (well, he can, but not for long).

                Dan turns away from her and catches Phil’s eye, who’s looking at them, uncomprehending.

                Dan stares at the wall behind Phil’s head, his eyes unfocused, the colors blending together, so it’s hard to tell where one color starts and another stops. Indistinguishable noise fills the room, and Dan barely registers it. He feels as if he’s mind is foggy and clouded over by smoke, as if someone lit a fire in his brain that’s slowing his thoughts.

                He feels a hand on his shoulder, presumably Louise’s, and he’s ripped from his thoughts, pulled back into the real world.

                They’re both staring at him and it doesn’t take long for Dan to figure out why.

                “I’ve called your name like five times,” Louise says and groans.

                “What do you want?” he says, his voice coming out irritated but tired, despite his attempts to make it sound angrier.

                “Did you know Phil wants to be an author?” Louise asks.

                It’s a stupid question for many reasons, but mainly, it’s stupid because Louise knows Dan knows absolutely nothing about Phil, apart from the fact that he talks and smiles way too much.

                “No.”

                “Didn’t you want to be a writer at one point in time?”

                “I guess.”

                Dan wanted to be a writer when he was eleven years old. His teacher at the time had gotten it into his brain that he was a really good writer, so it only made since to him at the time that he should be one when he grew up.

                Now he just wants to watch the world burn.

                “Did you ever write anything?” Phil asks. Dan knows he’s asking him, but he keeps quiet and stares at him, as if willing him to shut up.

                “He used to write all the time. He would never let me read them, but he wrote a lot of short stories. Or at least, I think they were short stories. He never told me,” Louise answers.

                “Most people start of writing short stories,” Phil says, nodding. “That’s what I mainly write now. I’ve been trying to start a novel, but I just don’t have any ideas that I think would benefit if I gave them more than a few pages.”

                “What do you write about?”

                “I don’t know,” Phil answers bashfully, a blush on his cheeks. “It’s hard to describe it out loud for some reason, but I’ll let you read something if you want.”

                “I would love to!”

                Dan follows their conversation with ease, but doesn’t participate. He keeps to his own thoughts and imagines when he’ll get home and pull his lighter out of his closet, watching the way the small flame dances and flickers in the nonexistent wind, disturb by his close breathing.

                He lets his imagination wander. It starts off small, with some body part of his _Pooh Bear_ that slowly burns until its crisp black, but then it grows. He sees himself lighting the swing on fire, the image clear as day despite the time that’s passed since then. It’s pitch black, but the orange flames light up the sky, more than any star could ever do. He fills his mind with the sound of the swing going up in flames, the light crackles that the fire makes, and blocks out their conversation completely.

                The bell ringing to signify the end of lunch is the only thing powerful enough to pull him out this time.

                Phil walks with him out of the lunch room and immediately, he asks, “How come you don’t talk that much? How are you supposed to make friends if you don’t try?”

                Dan stops walking in the middle of the hallway even though there are people behind him who will surely be annoyed by his actions. “I think you’re missing the point.”

                Phil gives Dan a curious look, urging him to explain.

                “I’m not trying to make friends, because I don’t do friends, okay? And I don’t want to be your friend.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to try and update more frequently throughout the rest of October as I know updates will be extremely slow in November because I’m doing NaNoWriMo. Also, HSE updates are going to be even slower as I really think that story just lacks a good plot and everything pretty much.

Louise is standing outside of the door, off to the side, when Dan’s mom pulls up and drops him off. She’s wearing her blonde hair up in a ponytail with a look of disappointment on her face. For the most part, she always keeps her hair down, and she only puts it up when she’s mad. Dan’s not sure why she does this, but he briefly remembers it having to do with her mom. He wants to say it’s because her mom always did it to annoy her grandma as Louise’s grandma always believed that girls should wear their hair down, but maybe that was a different thing that he’s confusing it for.

                The closer he gets, the more obvious it is that she’s clearing mad. Well, she’s as mad as she can get. Louise reserves being full-blown mad for little things, namely her parents, but with Dan, she’s more likely to be highly disappointed than mad.

                “You told me you were going to give him a chance,” she says. Disappointment rings in her voice, but Dan takes a second to realize it. He’s gotten too used to it to point it out immediately as he pretty much hears it at least once a day.

                “I did,” Dan says, shrugging indifferently. “It just didn’t take very long for him to bother me.”

                “That’s what you always say.”

                “Because that’s how I always feel.”

                “How can you be sure what you feel when you literally didn’t even give him two seconds of your time?”

                “Two seconds can say a lot about a person.”

                Louise gives him her signature look. It’s a cross between annoyed and disappointed and it always makes him feel guilty. He huffs in defeat, something he typically does, which is a sign that he’s close to giving in.

                “Please, I know it doesn’t bother you, but I know it makes your parents sad that you don’t do anything besides go to school and laze around on your computer all day. So, please, for the love of God, give him a chance. He’s actually really nice,” Louise says. The parent card is what makes Dan feel the worst about how he acts. Louise’s parents don’t care what she does with her life like Dan’s do, and for a while, he had thought that was the best think, but now, it just doesn’t seem as appealing as it once did.

                He sighs again, drawing it out. “What’s giving him a chance going to do?”

                It’s obvious his resolve is wearing thin and has been since she gave _the look_. His shoulders are slumped and his posture has relaxed, no longer stiff like it had been when he was still annoyed.

                “It might make you feel better about yourself,” Louise says, a large smile on her face. She clearly knows she’s won this time—like always—so there’s no point in arguing any longer. It would just be a waste of time.

                “Fine,” Dan says, “but I want you to know that I won’t enjoy this and I’m only doing it to make you happy.”

                “That’s what you think now, but eventually, you’ll be glad I had you do this because you’ll really start to like him.”

                “I doubt it.”

                The ten minute bell rings loud and clear, despite the fact that Dan’s not inside the building, but it’s just the excuse that Dan needs to leave Louise. They have the same first block, but their lockers are in two separate directions.

                Dan’s locker is the main hall, which sucks for a number of reasons, but the main reason is that it’s always crowded and he has to push his way through to get to his locker which doesn’t help with his plan to stay invisible. Sure, it’s not out of his way as he passes by it between almost all of his classes, but the main hallway is where everything happens because it’s the largest hallway, and—just like Dan—most people pass it on their way to their next class.

                Once Dan’s done pushing his way through a large crowd of people that have gathered around in large groups to take to their friends, Dan quickly does his combination and opens up his locker. His books have fallen down, which is something that would usually annoy Dan, but this time, he just lets it slides and grabs the one he needs as his promise to Louise weighs heavy on his mind.

                His lighter is in his pocket, and it’s just light enough that it feels more like a phantom weight than anything else, but it’s what the second half of his attention is focused on, and he’s torn between preparing himself for Phil and wanting to skip school to go set something on fire, but it’s risky lighting fires in broad daylight anyway, so he has just enough strength to ignore his urge.

                The crowd is still just as big and annoying as it was when he first walked in when he is done getting what he needs from his locker. Noise is everywhere, having only gotten worse, and the rage he feels at everyone in this damned hallway increases, putting a new image in his mind—something he knows he would never go through with, but would love to see happen anyway—that’s as vivid as his memory of what happened just two seconds ago, and he sees the school building burning down as he stands watch.

                He shakes his head to clear these thoughts from his brain. He probably looks insane, but people already think he’s weird enough anyway. He wears black the majority of the time and never talks to anybody, except for Louise and now apparently Phil, and is easily annoyed when someone does try to communicate with him, so at this point, Dan doesn’t think it’s worth fretting over his reputation.

                Louise is already in the classroom when he gets to his first block, and so is Phil. Dan makes eye contact with Louise just long enough to see her subtly motioning towards Phil, as if telling Dan to go and talk to him.

                Dan takes his seat next to Phil but keeps quiet, waiting for Phil to say something first. If Phil doesn’t make the first move, then as far as Dan’s concerned, he clearly doesn’t want to be his friend and therefore, it makes no sense for Dan to try and befriend him.

                Out of the corner of his eye, Dan sees Phil turn to face him, opening his mouth as if preparing to speak, but the ringing of the bell silences him, and Mrs. Kintigh clears her throat at the front of the room.

                “Today will be all partner work, so as soon as I take attendance, I want you to find a partner.”

                Usually, Dan partners up with Phil, but when he turns to catch her eye, she’s facing away from her, talking to the girl who sits next to her, and Phil’s asking him if he wants to work with him.

                _Fuck you, Louise_ , Dan thinks bitterly without any conviction. He wants to be mad—and feels like he has every right to be—but he made a promise to her, so it’s partly his fault. This is just the thing that Louise would do, so he’s not even surprised.

                “Sure,” Dan says, not even trying to hide his irritation. He may have promised Louise that he would try, but he had figured that he would have at least until lunch to do so.

                When Mrs. Kintigh finishes taking attendance, Dan has Phil move his desk next to Dan’s, so it will be easier to work together. The first thing they have to do is edit a paper, probably because they’re going to start another essay soon, and then they have a worksheet to do which is supposed to take them the majority of the class time to do as they have to look up various things to do it.

                “I’ve always hated editing other people’s papers,” Phil says randomly before they’ve had the chance to actually start it. “I feel like I put way too much effort into it and nobody does the same for me.”

                Dan nods. He actually has a lot he could say about this subject. He used to edit Louise’s papers in-depth, but when he started to realize that her corrections were never as thorough as his, he started to provide fewer edits and fewer suggestions. “Yeah, Louise used to edit mine all the time, but she would correct really tiny mistakes and then put, ‘ _This was really good!_ ’ at the end, while I would be spending like an hour reading and rereading hers just to make sure I got everything.”

                “Right! And having us edit these sample papers does nothing. I don’t learn anything from them, and if I have to edit them, I’m not going to want to use them as a guide for mine, and if they’re really good, then I’m going to have a hard time not wanting to copy them, you know? Like I’d rather spend time doing self-editing than editing papers of people who have already been graded.”

                “Exactly!” Dan says.

                So, maybe he had judged Phil too quickly. He still doesn’t want to be friends with him, because friends can be mentally and physically draining in a way that Dan just doesn’t want to deal with, but he’s definitely not someone he’s going to hate. Phil’s definitely too perky for him, too upbeat at first glance, but he’s raw beneath the surface, opinionated and rude in a probably unintentional way. Still, whenever Dan thinks of Phil’s overall perkiness he wants to barf, it’s so horrible. It would just be so much easier if Phil could be a side: opinionated and well-rounded or upbeat and flat.

                “We should probably get working on this,” Phil says, looking down at the sample paper that’s half on his desk and half on Dan’s.

                “She probably won’t even grade it,” Dan says and looks at it with disgust. “She always does this before we have a paper coming up, but she never even collects them. They’re just a thing for us to do to prepare ourselves for the essay, but then again, she’s never had us work on them as a pair before.”

                “Well, you know what they say, two brains are better than one.”

                “That’s only the case if they’re both alive and functioning; if one of the people is braindead than they’re useless.”

                They’re only halfway through the paper when Phil’s constant talking switches from judgmental to overly upbeat once again and now Dan feels like going braindead just so he doesn’t have to put up with this anymore. Life would be so much easier if Dan could just pick a side, too: rude and bitter or friendly and opened-up.

                Humans are complex, but Dan’s always felt like the most complex out there, like he can never quite define who he is personality and character wise. One second, he’s mad at his parents and the next second, he’s whispering _I love you_ under his breath just because he wants his parents to know, but can’t bring himself to say it without crushing his pride.

                Phil tries to catch Dan’s attention again, but Dan slowly transitions over to one word replies. Unsurprisingly, Phil doesn’t shut up. He talks about his favorite books and his favorite movies and what he likes to write about and points out how he hates writing romance with every fiber of his being. Hell, Dan probably knows just as much about Phil as he does himself at this point.

                Luckily, once they do get to the worksheet, which takes them forever by the way, Phil shuts up more often as they both have to work harder to complete this than they did on the sample essay. And from then on, the time passes by quicker and before Dan knows it, the teacher is clearing her throat again and standing at the front of the classroom.

                “As there are only five minutes left of the class, I would like you to start cleaning up now,” she says. “Create two stacks of paper on the table and make sure you have both of your names on your work before you hand it in!”

                “I’ll turn it in,” Phil says, grabbing the papers in his hand. He stands up and pushes his chair back to its original spot carelessly and heads up towards the front of the room.

                Dan catches Louise’s eye once again as she passes by, and he swears she’s telling him to invite Phil to their lunch table.

                At this point, it almost seems stupid to ask considering Phil always sits there, but maybe she wants him to do it because it’s a way of him subtly saying that he wants Phil around, which he’s rather indifferent about actually, but he doesn’t say that.

                When Phil gets back, Dan says, without thinking too much about it, “Do you want to sit with Louise and me at lunch?”

                A smile breaks out on Phil’s face. “Sure.”

                The fact that he invited Phil to lunch means that he can’t sneak off to light a cigarette and watch the smoke curl in the air, but he sucks it up and puts on a fake smile, hoping that it doesn’t make him look pained.

                Dan’s just a guy who wants to watch the world burn, but because of Louise, that’s going to have to wait. 


	6. An Intervention and a Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd update again even though I just updated on Friday because I'm typically really bad at posting new chapters on time. Enjoy!

Dan tries to ignore his burning desire to set something up in flames, but images of fires dance across his mind every time he closes his eye and looking at the smoke burn from the end of his cigarette only does so much before it loses all power. And he decides to give into the urge right after dinner, when the sun has started to set in the sky.

                It’s still unbearably cold outside, and frost covers the ground where the slippery ice doesn’t. The harsh wind comes every so often, blowing harshly and having the effect of pins and needles. The darkening sky does little to warm the temperature, but it makes the fire brighter by comparison and it means less people are likely to be out than during the daytime when the sun is up.

                There’s an old shed on the outskirts of town that was once a part of a circus at one point and was used as storage, but the circus shut down shortly before Dan was born and the shed was left abandoned. Originally, they had plans to repurpose it, but nothing ever came out of it because it was so far away from the center of the city, which was where most of the stuff happened.

                Dan had made sure to research the shed fully before heading out. He used to ask about it all the time when he was younger and they drove past it, but if he wants to avoid any serious charges if he ever gets caught, he has to stick to unimportant things, buildings and structures that are hardly ever used and two seconds away from collapsing in on themselves.

                Regret moves through him in waves when he gets a block away from his house. His coat—which he had barely remembered to take in the first place mind you—does little to protect him against the harsh weather when his hands are still very much out in the open, along with his face. He can’t drive to the shed, so he’s stuck walking as he has no money to take the bus.

                It takes him nearly an hour to get to the edge of town, and his hands and face feel almost numb. Dropping the shopping bag with the bottle of gasoline in it, he takes a few seconds to warm up his hands by cupping them around his mouth and blowing hot air onto them, but it’s in vain, as the backside is left exposed to the cold, and eventually, he drops his hands, giving up.

                He grabs the bottle out and walks closer up to the shed. After taking the lid off, he walks around the perimeter of the building, pouring gas as he walks. Quickly, he pulls out his lighter and sets the gas on fire, walking away as soon as it starts burning. The further away he walks, the bigger the flame grows until the whole shed is covered in orange and yellow light. But the wind comes again, and the flames grow weaker against them.

                Still, the sight of the burning shed is enough to fill him with a sense of calmness and relaxation, something he had been missing for the past few days.

                He doesn’t wait for the fire to go out completely. The walk back home is long and freezing, and as much enjoyment as he gets out of watching the building burn, he can’t enjoy it as much as he would if he was warmer. Sure, the fire keeps him warm, but the backside of him is facing away from it—much like the way the back of his hands had been facing away from his breath—and only half of him is warm; the other half is cold. He uses the image of the fire that’s burned in his mind to get him through it, and the hour-long walk feels more like thirty minutes than anything else.

                He sneaks in through the back door. The lights are off in the house, which means his parents are heading to bed, if not already asleep. The house is eerily silent, but when he’s walking up the stairs, he notices that the light is on in his room and he knows for sure he turned it off before he left.

                _If this is another intervention_ , he thinks, _I swear to god_. This wouldn’t be the first time, or even the second for that matter, but it’s been a while since they’ve done it. The first time had been shortly after he got his fake I.D. (not that they knew he had it, but he had started to stay out later than they liked, which raised some concerns). They had sat around at the dinner table and waited for him to come back, and when he did, they sat him down and talked to him about how he needed to tell them where he was going and needed to come home earlier. Naturally, it hadn’t worked. The next time, they had Louise come, too, and she was able to guilt him into a week-long period of reform where he just wouldn’t leave the house except to go to her house. He had figured they were done with interventions after that.

                He’s partially right. Sitting at his desk is none other than Louise, and Louise is definitely capable of staging an intervention by herself. She turns to look at him with her signature disappointment present on her face.

                “Where do you sneak off to all the time?” she asks. “Your parents were worried sick when I got here, going on and on about how you disappeared after dinner. You can’t keep doing that, you know.”

                “Nowhere,” Dan lies. “I was just walking around the block?”

                “For a few hours?”

                “I wanted to clear my mind.”

                “In this weather?”

                “I wore a coat, so I wasn’t even that cold.”

                “Whatever,” Louise says, sighing. “We’ll talk about this later, but I thought we were going to have a sleepover today.”

                The thing about Dan’s parents is that they’re perfectly fine with Louise staying the night and sleeping in his bed. Part of this is because they know there’s nothing going on between the two of them, but Dan’s always wondered if part of it is because they want them to get together. Or, at the very least, they don’t want them to stop being friends, so allowing Dan to hang out with Louise is there way of making sure they keep in touch.

                Dan had completely forgotten about the sleepover, which isn’t an uncommon thing in the least bit. In fact, it happens all the time. It’s honestly a miracle Louise puts up with him, but either way, she constantly has to remind him that they’re supposed to hang out or he’ll forget all about it and it won’t happen.

                “I’m sorry for forgetting,” Dan says apologetically. “It won’t happen again.” Dan knows Louise doesn’t believe his words, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

                Dan walks over to his bed and collapses onto it, staring at his ceiling, with his feet hanging off the end of it.

                “What do you want to do?” Louise says, getting up from the desk and sitting down right beside him. This is a common question at their sleepovers. Sometimes they play video games or watch movies. Other times, and this is probably the most frequently done, they do their own things on their own devices, with Dan browsing Tumblr and Louise doing whatever she does.

                Dan’s more in the mood for the latter, but his heart is heavy with guilt from forgetting about Louise coming over, so it’s probably better if he goes with a movie marathon as he knows it’s Louise’s favorite thing to do.

                “We can watch movies.”

                “ _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_?”

                “Naturally.”

                If there’s one movie that Dan loves the most in the world, it has to be _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_. There’s not a lot of fire in it, but it’s so raw that Dan doesn’t even mind. And it’s the movie they almost always watch during their movie marathons. It’s one of the things they initially bonded over, so it’s become a staple of their relationship.

                “I’ll go get it and put it,” Louise says, a smile on her face that was not present a few moments ago. “You can go make the popcorn.”

                “Okay,” Dan says, getting off the bed.

                The light in his parents’ room has been turned on since he got home, and when he gets closer to it, he can hear hushed words through the door. He presses his ear up against it, but it doesn’t improve anything. It doesn’t matter. They’re probably talking about him anyway, and he can tell that without listening in.

                He takes the steps one at a time until he finally reaches the bottom and goes into the kitchen in search of some microwavable popcorn. He finds some in the first cabinet he checks, and puts it in the microwave for the suggested time, listening carefully to the seconds between the pops because burnt popcorn is the worst.

                By the time he finishes, Louise has already set up the movie in his room and he takes a seat right next to her on his bed, their backs leaning up against the headboard. He carefully places the popcorn in between them, and Louise presses play on the movie.

                “There’s something so beautiful about the opening of this movie,” Louise says.

                “I know right.”

                For the most part, they watch in silence, but when one of their favorite scenes comes on, they always end up discussing it. And when the fight scene comes on, they skip talking about it all together and Dan ends up shouting at the screen, cheering on Charlie even though he can’t hear him.

                If there’s one thing that Dan’s passionate about besides fires, it’s movies. There’s no particular reason, but they’ve always been something that he’s enjoyed. They’re better than books because they’re straight to the point; they don’t waste time backtracking so people can better understand the situation and they’re easier to follow for the most part.

                When it’s revealed that the aunt did something to Charlie, Dan has to fight back tears even though he’s seen this a million times before. And he hears Louise cry beside him, too.

                During the movie, it’s almost easy to forget that there was a later to Louise’s early statement about Dan leaving without telling his parents, but as soon as it’s over and the end credits start rolling with the song Heroes playing in the background, Louise lowers the volume and turns to him. “Dan, you can’t keep sneaking out like that.”

                “I thought we were over this.”

                Louise sighs. “We won’t be over this until you start listening to your parents and me for that matter. You can’t keep leaving without telling them. It’s rude and you know how much it scares your parents even if it happens all the time.” She moves the popcorn so it’s at the end of the bed and turns to face Dan.

                Dan rolls his eyes and says, “They should be used to it by now. I do it all the time and I always come back.”

                “But what if you don’t one day? What are they supposed to do then?”

                “I’m not going to run away.”

                “Somebody could kidnap you or hurt you.”

                “I think I’m strong enough to handle myself.”

                “God, Dan!” she yells. “Can’t you see how lucky you are? Your parents have always cared about you and they want to be a part of your life! Some people aren’t so fortunate, but you take advantage of what you’re given without thinking about everybody else! You’re so _fucking_ selfish.”

                If there’s one thing that Louise never does, it’s cuss, so Dan knows he’s really fucked up this time, and he almost doesn’t know how to react for a second, but then the guilt comes.

                “I’m sorry,” Dan says. “I’ll try to get better at telling them when I’m going to go, I promise.” This time, he means the promise that he says and he says it with guilt heavy in his tone. “I’m sorry for putting you and my parents through this,” he repeats.

                “It’s okay, as long as you keep your promise,” Louise says, offering a kind smile, and putting her hand over his in a comforting manner, as if to say _it’s alright_. “Now . . . it’s your turn to pick the movie.”

* * *

 

When Dan wakes up in the morning, Louise is sleeping on the other side of his bed, hogging the comforter. He gets out of bed, this time in his pajama bottoms with a baggy t-shirt, and walks down stairs and into the living room. His parents are watching the news on the television. A sense of pride rushes over him when he sees what’s on. They’re talking about the recent fire at the shed.

                “The police still have no suspect for who is setting all of these fires,” the woman on screens says, “but they do believe whoever is doing this is a pyromaniac who feels that they must do it. So if you know anyone who has a strange fascination with fire and might be responsible, please contact the police.”

                Pictures flash across the screen, all of them pictures of his work, and he must admit, it’s not as beautiful once the fire is out.

                “I don’t get why anyone would ever want to set something on fire,” his mother says, shaking her head. “It just makes no sense.”

                “I don’t know,” his dad says, “but hopefully, they’ll catch them soon, so these fires can stop.”

                Dan clenches his fists and his breathing speeds up, but he tries calming breaths, so it won’t seem suspicious. They don’t get him, never have, and this is why he doesn’t open up to them. If he could choose whether or not he found fires fascinating, he would choose not, but he doesn’t get a choice and he gave up fighting long ago. He just wishes his parents would realize that.

                He clears his throat and takes a seat on the chair.

                “Where’s Louise?” his mom asks.

                “Asleep.”

                “Where did you go last night?”

                “On a walk,” he answers exasperated. “Why does it matter?”

                “Because we’re worried about you, and who knows, maybe this person setting all these fires is really dangerous and might hurt you.”

                “The shed’s on the edge of town, mom. I only walked around the neighborhood.”

                “Your mom has a point, son,” his dad says. “We just want to make sure your safe.”

                “I can take care of myself.”

                His dad goes on and on after that, but he shuts him out and turns to face the television, but they’ve moved on from the fire onto another thing and he huffs in annoyance. Somehow, his parents always manage to ruin everything, and even though he loves them, sometimes he can’t stand them.

 


	7. Faking It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait! I've been extremely busy with school and I'm working on two one-shots, so I haven't had the time to get around to this. 
> 
> Also, if you haven't already, please go check out my pbb fic: [The Window To His Soul](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5090303)

Dan wakes up tired after two hours of sleep. He’s quite the opposite of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He groans as soon as he opens his eyes and rolls over in bed, thankful that he had “forgotten” to set his alarm clock. And he’s able to fall back asleep for all of two seconds before his mom comes in, telling him to get up.

                “I don’t feel good,” Dan says, his voice muffled by the pillows.

                Dan doesn’t usually pretend to feel ill to get out of school simply because whenever he does, his mom watches him intently the whole day and makes sure that he doesn’t do anything fun, namely Tumblr, so it’s pretty pointless to do so. However, he has about a million unfulfilled promises to Louise that he would rather forget about for the day or the week.

                “What’s wrong?” his mother asks, the concern seeping into her tone. Because Dan does fake sick so little, she rarely questions him when he does. Instead, it’s like she forgets everything that he’s done, all the lies he’s said and the horrible way he’s treated her, and if he wasn’t feeling guilty enough before, lying to her like this and watching as she whole-heartedly believes it is the final push over the edge.

                “I just have a headache and I feel a little nauseous,” Dan lies easily.

                “Oh, honey,” his mom says in that caring voice that usually serves to get on his nerves, but this time, he just feels bad, like there’s a pit in his stomach.

                Louise’s frequent lecture about how he treats his parents comes into his mind. What would she think if she was witnessing this exchange? She would know that he was lying—she knows him enough to know when he’s lying and not. Supposedly, his face gives it away, but he’s never looked at himself lying to know whether or not this is the truth. He’s really good at maintaining eye contact, so he doesn’t think that’s it, but maybe his face scrunches up marginally, just enough to convey that he’s not telling the truth.

                “I’ll make you some soup for lunch,” his mom says. “But for now, I just want you to rest up. I’ll be in to check up on you soon.”

                The first time Dan had faked sick, near the end of his sophomore year, he had fallen for her words and believed that she would come in like clockwork every hour to check up on him. However, she really means that she’ll never let him out of his sight long enough for him to do anything.

                But the day is still far better than facing Louise, somehow. It’s not that he doesn’t like talking to Louise—and lord knows he’s better for it—but sleeping is better than social interaction any day. And if faking sick and having his mom’s watchful eye on him constantly is the price to pay, he’s willing to take it every once and awhile. He stays and bed and sleeps, and his mom feeds him soup at noun and shortly before school ends, he says he’s feeling loads better and she gives him some space.

* * *

 

The next day, there’s no getting out of it. He already told his mom that he feels better, so he knows she’s going to be skeptical if he randomly feels bad again, and considering he’s been able to keep her from getting suspicious for this long, he doesn’t want to risk anything. This means that he has to go to school.

                “Where were you yesterday?” Louise asks as soon as Dan’s in front of the school. “I was really worried about you.”

                “I didn’t feel good.”

                “Did you fake sick just so you could miss a day of school?”

                “Is it impossible for me to get sick or something?”

                “Dan Howell doesn’t get sick.”

                “There was that one time in 9th grade.”

                “Yes, but this isn’t the 9th grade, and you were fine the day before.”

                “I just didn’t feel like going to school, okay?”

                Louise sighs, moving her backpack so it’s situated higher up on her shoulder. She rolls her eyes, but turns around to enter the building anyway. There’s no doubt that she knows Dan will follow her; he almost always does.

                “You need to stop taking advantage of your mother like that. How many times have you promised me that you would stop?”

                “I have promised you way too many things to remember them all.”

                “Do you remember the promise regarding Phil?”

                “Yes.”

                “Good because he’s going to be sitting with us at lunch again, and I’m expecting you to participate and give him a chance.”

* * *

 

The lunch with Phil hangs on his mind the entire first half of the day. When he’s in first block, all he can think about is having to talk to Phil, which seems easy enough. And social interactions in general don’t make him anxious, so it would make since that this one wouldn’t either, but he feels a weight on his shoulders and Louise’s burning stare on his side. He wouldn’t call it anxious, however, but it’s working its way there the longer he thinks about it.

                When he’s in second block, with lunch only growing closer, the anxiety fades for a brief second and turns to anger at Louise for always acting like she has control over his life. She’s always telling him to do something, and he follows blindly usually, and when he does something she doesn’t like, she points it out, expecting him to change it. But then it hits him: he lets her have power over his life. Maybe subconsciously he’s decided that he doesn’t want to have control of his life because of how much power comes with it, but either way, he can’t be mad at her when he rarely puts effort into fighting her. So the anger fades, but not into anxiety. Instead, he starts preparing himself to be annoyed with Phil and his peppy attitude.

                When he’s in third block, he starts formulating some conversation ideas, so he won’t sit there like an idiot for ten minutes trying to think of something to say to make the awkward silence go away. But twenty minutes into class, he gives up because, ultimately, he knows that you can’t start a real conversation like that. Instead, he focuses his attention towards calming himself, so he won’t explode. He fails.

                He doesn’t go through the line today. Instead, he sits down without food and waits. Louise will definitely give him a lecture about skipping lunch (“You know it’s not good for your body to go so long without eating,”) but he allows himself to forget about that for just a second.

                Louise and Phil sit down at the same time, one on each side of him, and Dan sighs, knowing that getting through this lunch is going to be a struggle and a half.

                “Why aren’t you eating?” Louise says almost immediately after sitting down.

                “Not hungry,” Dan says, shrugging, turning to look at Louise. She’s carrying a book, so there’s no question about it: she isn’t going to participate in the conversation at all once she’s done with Dan.

                “Dan, you need to eat.” He shuts her out after that and lets her go on talking for the next few minutes before she ultimately asks for him to promise her to eat lunch tomorrow, and naturally, he promises her without much fighting.

                She starts reading her book as soon as he does, and he turns to Phil, who has sat silently throughout the whole exchange, simply eating his food.

                The first thing Dan notices when he looks at Phil is his shirt. He recognizes the band as soon as he sees it: Muse.

                “You listen to Muse?” Dan asks, shock obvious in his tone. Louise doesn’t listen to them; she’ll tell them they’re good whenever he asks if it’s okay for him to put one of their songs on, but he knows she does that to please him and not because she actually wants to listen to them.

                Maybe if Dan was someone else, they might actually have a chance at being friends, but Dan is himself. He burns random things and old memories. He’s constantly angry—his parents would say he’s going through his “teenage angst” phase, but he digresses. He doesn’t know how to form friends who don’t lecture him.

                “They’re my favorite band,” Phil replies, smiling. He’s always smiling. In fact, Dan can’t even think of a handle of times that he hasn’t been smiling since they’ve met.

                “Same! And they’re so good live.”

                For Dan’s fifteenth birthday party, his parents had gotten him tickets to go see them live. It was only his second concert, so he didn’t have much to compare it to, but it was a million times better than the first one (and not just because he only marginally liked the first band he saw live). Matt Bellamy has such a good voice, and Dan’s been trying to go to another concert ever since.

                “You’ve seen them live?” Phil says, and Dan nods. “You’re so lucky! I almost got the chance to see them live, but my friend’s parents wouldn’t let him and I had no one else to go with.”

                “I went with my parents, but it was worth it,” Dan responds.

                “My parents don’t like their music.”

                “Mine don’t either, but it was a birthday gift, so they went along anyway.”

                “Why didn’t you have Louise go?”

                “She doesn’t like them.”

                “I don’t get how someone could not like them.”

                “I know right.”

                After they’re done talking about Muse, their conversation moves on to other bands they like (that Louise doesn’t), but it only takes half of the lunch period for Dan to grow tired of Phil’s perky attitude, so he dismisses himself from the lunch table, and right as he’s leaving, he sees Louise look up from her book, giving him a look that tells him to _stay put_ , that she knows what he’s going to do, but he ignores her.

                _Sometimes I can be in control of my life_ , Dan thinks triumphantly.

                He sneaks out through the sports entrance and goes to the smoker’s den, an area behind the shed that is surrounded by trees and not visible from the track. This is where everybody goes to smoke during lunch. No one ever checks it, so there’s little risk of getting in trouble, and it’s also Dan’s safe haven at school.

                It’s still cold outside and the ground is still frostbitten, but even though he has to pull his lightweight jacket further around him, it’s still a million times better than talking to Phil right now.

                There are two other people when he gets there. He ignores them and takes a spot in the corner where no one is and lights up a cigarette. He keeps a pack in his pocket just in case, and today is one of those _just in case_ moments.

                He’s always thought there’s something nice about watching the smoke go up and disappear. The smoke is so fragile, and with a simple wave of his hand, Dan could destroy it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches it move through the air. Maybe that’s why he likes it so much; it gives him power over something so small, power that he can handle without crumbling under the stress of it. And don’t get him wrong. Dan likes power and being in control, but being in control over something else is so much different than being in control of his own life.

                “Can I have a cigarette?” a girl asks, motioning towards the cigarette in his mouth.

                “This is my last one,” he replies without thinking. He’s lying, but that’s what he does. Dan Howell is a liar and a fake and a bad friend and an _arsonist_ , and he doesn’t care about other people (except Louise and his parents, but that’s it).

                The bell rings shortly after and he stomps on his cigarette, hearing the crunch of the frozen grass underneath give way. The burning end of the cigarette wasn’t enough to calm him, and he still feels annoyance and anger and frustration and he’ll have to do this again today, because setting another fire just isn’t an option right now.

                _When did his life get so messy?_


	8. A Flair for the Dramatic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> I know this isn't Sunday, but I had a sudden burst of inspiration for this chapter and I couldn't stop writing after I started. If my memory serves me correct, this is the longest chapter so far and I'm extremely proud of it. Hopefully you enjoyed it! (Also, I will still be updating Sunday unless something comes up!!)

Dan’s been teetering back and forth between hating Phil and thinking that, if this was another life, he would want to be friends with him. He’s not sure it matters, but he feels like his life has been completely flipped upside down and now it’s hanging in the balance. Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but Dan’s always had a flair for the dramatic. And well, he definitely feels like he has every right to be dramatic right now. If it wasn’t for Louise, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He would have never given Phil a second thought and he definitely wouldn’t be thinking about _what ifs_ and _other lives_ that could make a friendship between the two possible.

                And Phil’s nice in that annoying, _I’ll-keep-talking-to-fill-the-silence_ sort of way. Dan’s lived in quiet for quite some time. Sure, Louise gives him an earful whenever he does something she doesn’t like, but they hang out in complete silence for the simple feeling of knowing you’re not alone. But this is a concept that Phil obviously doesn’t grasp, which is irritating, but fresh and new at the same time.

                Dan has a habit of making friends for his parents’ sake. Well, actually, that’s not completely true. Louise is the only one that ever worked out, but when he was in the 8th grade and he thought optimism was a sin and pessimism was the only true way to look at the world because everything was monochrome anyway, he had tried, rather unsuccessfully, to make at least one friend to please his parents. Maybe his pessimism is what turned them off, because whenever Dan started a friendship, he already had preconceived ideas that it was going to fail.

                He’d like to think that now he’s less of a pessimist, but he’d still be lying if he called himself an optimist. He thinks friendships are going to end, yes, but that’s because he knows he won’t put the effort into it and not because of them. Either way, the point is that Dan doesn’t make friends, so why he’s even allowing the mere idea to linger in his brain is beyond him, but he’s doing it nonetheless and he really wishes he would stop, because that would make things a million times easier.

                It’s been a week since the day they discussed bands and the ropes holding Dan back and keeping him from getting close to Phil have only been getting weaker.

                Dan remembers a time when actually like an asshole wasn’t an act at all, but Louise has definitely sweetened him up in her annoying, yet oddly endearing way. And he’s still a bitch—there’s no doubt about that—but he’s not _horrible_ , so to speak. The worst thing is how he treats his parents, but now, at the very least, he feels guilty about it, which is definitely an improvement, considering how he used to feel about them.  Now, most of the time he just acts like an asshole because it’s easier than having feelings and letting people in.

                And there was a time when Dan didn’t have to remind himself that friends aren’t his thing. Except that was a darker time in his life and it’s probably best that he forgets it. (He’s become quite good at blocking out and repressing memories, and he’s done exactly that with the specific details of his phase in his life.)

                But he digresses once again. The point is, he’s been trying his “best” to get to know Phil. He allows Phil to talk his ear off and Dan asks him questions whenever there’s a lull in the conversation to keep the attention off of himself. This continues until Dan’s 99% sure that there isn’t anything else that he could possibly want to know about Phil. He’s exaggerating a bit—he doesn’t know why Phil moved here, for one, and if he wanted to know anything extra about Phil, he’d probably want to know that. However, despite everything that Dan’s learned about Phil that they have in common, he’s still struggling with Phil’s obnoxious as fuck personality.

                Yeah, he’s gotten better about that whole asshole thing, but he’s not perfect by any means.

                And after a week, he’s pretty sure Louise expects them to be best friends. He’s also pretty sure that Louise doesn’t know what best friends should look like considering their _unique_ friendship. But it’s probably best that he doesn’t mention that to her because he doesn’t want her to think that he doesn’t appreciate their friendship as it is (and let’s be real here, Dan loves the way their friendship works—even if it is odd).

                For once, Louise isn’t standing in the front of the building waiting for Dan. More likely than not, it’s because Dan’s been late for the last three days and he can’t blame her for not wanting to be late, too, but he had just figured that she waited no matter what. So he walks by himself to his locker and gets his stuff, feeling weird for some reason and a little stressed (but he’s always stressed, so this is nothing new).

                Briefly, for a second or two, Dan actually thinks that Louise might be sick. After all, it could easily happen, but much like Dan, Louise rarely gets sick. She eats healthy and exercises, which you probably wouldn’t guess this if you were to just look at her, and because of this, she hasn’t been sick with more than a cough and runny nose in years. The thought is quickly rejected as soon as Dan walks into his first block class.

                Louise is sitting in her spot and talking to Phil. She motions with her hand when Dan meets her eye. He definitely wants to sit down and ignore her, giving himself some time to think some things over before confronting them head on, but Phil turns his head at this exact moment and sees him, smiling and waving and it’s obvious he expects Dan to come over.

                He walks over rather hesitantly and, mixed with his sluggish nature, it feels like an eternity before he gets to them, and even though all eyes aren’t on him, he feels like they are (and he _definitely_ doesn’t feel like this because he’s still hanging onto his reputation with desperation in his grip).

                “Hi,” he says, his voice anything but enthusiastic. Louise’s face gives away everything, the way her eyes have narrowed and her nose has scrunched up slightly—well, it all points to one thing: she’s less than pleased with his greeting and, more likely than not, she’s come to the conclusion that Dan is still not looking at Phil with a  completely open mind.

                “Hi,” Phil responds, but his voice is upbeat and light in a way that Dan’s isn’t.

                Luckily enough for Dan, the bell rings, effectively putting a stop to their conversation, and Dan walks to his seat with his head held high.

                Dan actually focuses on the lesson today. It’s a great distraction from what’s on his mind and even though it doesn’t seem like it at times, he does want to get into a good college away from here. So he pays attention extra closely, writing down all of the important things that Mrs. Kintigh says. They’re about to start reading a new book—he can’t remember all of the choices but he knows that _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ and _All The Pretty Horses_ are among them—but before that, they’re going over some last minute stuff. So he pays attention and he loses himself in the work.

                At the end of the class, they have to pick their book and Dan picks _All The Pretty Horses_ because even though the formatting of the dialogue is annoying, it supposedly an easier read than _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ , which is the only other book that he actually remembers what it’s about, and the only reason he even remembers the synopsis of _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ is because they talked about it in his sophomore English class when they did their Bag of Miscellany project of Zora Neale Hurston.

                Once they’ve been handed their books and the bell is only two minutes away from ringing, Dan’s worry returns quickly, hitting him like a train, and he _knows_ for a fact that Louise is going to have something to say to him once the bell rings.

                He spends the last minute putting his notebook and his folder into his backpack and he desperately clings onto the last few seconds of freedom before he’s inevitably confronted by Louise and she knows him inside and out. There’s no doubt that she’ll be able to figure out that he hasn’t been completely honest to his promise.

                Louise stops him outside the classroom door once Phil’s gone by.

                “Have you even given Phil a chance yet?” she asks. Annoyance is present in her tone, but it’s watered down, as if she’s holding back judgment until she’s heard Dan’s answer. She has a look on her face that demands an answer. Dan can’t describe it—it’s something you have to see for yourself—but her facial expression doesn’t waver at all.

                “Yes,” Dan says as if he’s shocked that she would even ask. “I’ve spent a week listening to him ramble on and on, and I can say, with full certainty, that I don’t want to be friends with him.” His voice wavers on the phrase full certainty, and he hopes that Louise doesn’t catch it.

                “Are you sure? Because you don’t sound like you are,” Louise says smugly and fully annoyed. She’s smirking at him, but there’s more to it than that: she’s rolling her eyes and putting her hand on her hip.

                “Yes,” Dan says, stronger than his first statement but still without full conviction.

                “Dan,” Louise scolds, “it doesn’t count as ‘giving him a chance’ when you’ve predetermined that it isn’t going to work and that you won’t like him. You promised me you would give him a chance.”

                Her signature look returns and Dan’s putty in her hands like always. Before he knows it, he’s admitting that he didn’t allow himself to like Phil and his confession comes with a promise that he’ll actually try this time around.

                The two-minute bell cuts off their conversation right before Dan can promise more things that he won’t actually want to live up to.

                His next class goes by like his first: he pays attention, takes notes, and tries his best to absorb the information. But it’s all a bore and halfway through the class, they’ve run out of things to do, so they’re left to study on their own, but Dan doesn’t study, so all of his thoughts about Louise and Phil rush back.

                He remembers at the start of this school year, he had only hung out with Louise to make his parents happy, and until recently, he had been trying to convince himself that he still did, but the truth of that matter is that Louise genuinely makes him a better person. However, much like his wavering thoughts about Phil, he’s torn between loving Louise’s motherly nature and hating it. When most people make friends, he’s sure this isn’t what they’re looking for, but he likes it. Yes, he can remember vividly the first day of school after winter break and he can remember thinking that it was all for his parents, but he can’t remember when it had switched from that to him just honestly wanting to hang out with her.

                He’s not sure why he’s thinking about this now. It’s irrelevant as far as he’s concerned, but maybe he’s trying to piece together how he let it progress this far. Either way, he lets it consume him for a good ten minutes before he decides it’s pointless to worry about the past when there is a future that holds far more secrets.

* * *

 

Dan goes through the lunch line today. It’s an impulsive decision, but he knows he’s on Louise’s “bad side” today, so he doesn’t want to give her yet another reason to be angry at him. The mashed potato bowl is the only edible thing on the menu today, so that’s what he gets, with a side of grapes because he has to have a fruit.

                Louise is already at the table when he gets there, but she’s not sitting down. Instead, she’s hovering by the table, with her tray in hand.

                “I’m going to sit with Zoe today,” Louise says when he approaches the table, and then whispers under her breath, “This way, you can talk to Phil without me getting in the way.”

                He groans, but she’s gone before he can even speak.

                He sits down in his normal spot and waits in silence for Phil to sit down. Granted, he only waits two minutes tops, but waiting at the table by himself always makes him feel awkward, despite doing it quite frequently. It’s just one of those feelings you can’t get used to.

                “Hi,” he says when Phil sits down.

                “Hi,” Phil replies, upbeat and perky and sounding like everything Dan hates, which is funny, considering he definitely doesn’t hate him (even if he wants to).

                “So . . .” Dan says, trying to think of a good conversation starter. He could ask the usual _how is your day going_ but he hates that question because it’s answer, while it should be rather simple, is actually a lot more complicated than actually saying _okay_ or _fine_ or _great_. And he knows so much about Phil that he’s not sure what other questions he should be asking, but then he remembers his previous thoughts and he knows exactly what to ask. “So, you’ve told me where you moved from, but you never said why.”

                “My dad’s a police officer and he was offered a promotion here, so we decided to move. In fact, he’s actually working on the fires that keep occurring here.”

                Dan shivers involuntarily, and his stomach is in knots immediately after hearing the words _police officer_ and _fire_. His world might as well be crashing down around him. Earlier, there had been a war waging inside of him, but at least for now, he’s sure that he _can’t_ be friends with Phil because he can’t face a police officer, let alone the very one who is working on a case that Dan is very much involved with.

                “Really? Maybe they’ll finally find whoever is doing it then,” Dan says, trying to hide his worry. He thinks is voice cracks on the word really, but he hopes that Phil didn’t notice or that he’s just imaging it.

                “Yeah, my dad’s pretty good at his job, so hopefully.”

                Dan shovels mashed potatoes into his mouth trying to ignore the rising anxiety within him that’s slowly clawing its way up Dan’s body and taking over him. Dan’s never had that bad of anxiety on a day to day basis, but it’s not the first time he’s felt an anxiety attack coming on. If Louise was here, she would be able to read him like an open book, but she’s not here and he doesn’t think he could be luckier.

                “Yeah . . . so, how do you like it here so far?”

                “It’s definitely different, but I like it. Like, it’s not a small city or town, so it’s fairly big, but it still comes off with those small town vibes and it’s very homely.”

                “That’s because it’s surrounded by corn.”

                “Yeah,” Phil says, laughing. “I didn’t think of it like that, but now that I do, the corn really does make it feel more like a small town than a city, especially considering I come from a small town with a lot of corn.”

                “Corn’s all over this state; you just can’t escape it.”

                “True, but that’s what makes this place unique.”

                “There’s nothing unique about corn and we aren’t the only state in the Corn Belt, mind you.”

                “I guess, but then again, only a select few states are a part of the Corn Belt after all.”

                Dan’s not sure what he’s talking about. He’s pretty sure that he’s subtly expressing his desire to leave this stupid state, but either way, he’s having a conversation—a normal conversation, if you will—with Phil and for once, he doesn’t want to hit him for at least one reason. However, this topic is quickly growing boring. He’s passionate about the topic; there’s no denying that, but if the conversation progresses any more, Dan’s going to start ranting.

                So he switches the topic randomly. “Do you miss any of your old friends?”

                “Not really. Like I said, I come from a small town and it was more of an ‘I’m going to be friends with you because I don’t have much of a choice’ rather than ‘I’m going to be friends with you because I actually like you.’”

                “So you weren’t close with any of them?” Dan only has one life and that’s a sad life even to him.             

                “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, they were all nice and I liked hanging out with them, but if I had met them here, I’m not sure if we would have gotten along. I like to give everybody a chance, but they were a little too wild for my taste, if that makes sense. They were all about drinking and partying, but that’s not me. Plus, I was going to leave them for college one day.”

                “Where do you want to go to college?”

                “I’m thinking Penn State because I have some family up there and it’s far enough away from here that I won’t feel suffocated by this state forever.”

                “Really?” Dan asks, truly interested. Why had he been so nervous to start this conversation? He doesn’t exactly remember, and this conversation definitely isn’t a sign that a friendship is going to develop, but it’s a step towards Phil no longer annoying Dan, which is good enough for now. “I want to go there, too! It’s always been my dream to get out of here, and admittedly, I decided on Penn State after watching and reading _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_.”

                “Same! I had thought about going there before reading it, but after reading it, I knew it’s where I wanted to go. The book is my favorite, and even though the movie doesn’t perfectly match the book, it’s one of my favorite movie adaptions of a book.”

                “I think the movie is so good because Stephen Chbosky had a lot to do with the creating of it.”

                “I’m really glad he did, considering I’m almost always disappointed with how the movies turn out for my favorite books, but I was far from disappointed when I watched the movie.”

                “I'm not a big fan of reading, so I can't really say anything, but I've heard that the movie adaption is still really good when compared to the book.”

                “I think the books are better, but that’s just because I can immerse myself a lot more and I’m horrible at paying attention when it comes to movies.”

                “I’m the complete opposite. I can’t immerse myself in books because I’m horrible at paying attention to them, but whenever I watch a movie, I’m totally focused.”

                Dan’s known that Phil’s not horrible for at least a week, and for roughly the same time, he’s known that they do share some things in common, but until today, he’s never realized just how much, and if there was any lasting doubt before, it’s all cleared up now: Dan doesn’t hate Phil. This may seem like something that shouldn’t be big, but it is. Dan, while he fully contends to his previous statement that he is not an asshole, hates everybody, besides Louise and his family and apparently Phil. His constant talking is still far from desirable, but there’s no denying that Dan can see himself liking Phil, if he allowed himself to do so. However, Phil’s dad is a police officer and Dan can’t put himself in a situation like that, no matter how much he gets along with Phil.

* * *

 

Louise is at his house after school like always. He’d probably be more surprised if she wasn’t at this point. She’s lying on his bed, and he’s sitting at his desk, twisting around in his chair.

                It’s silent for a few moments, and Dan’s too lost in thought to notice. He’s contemplating how he got to this, much like he’s been doing all day. He’d almost say that life was actually easier when he was an asshole; at least, back then it was easy for him to separate himself from his feelings or lack thereof. He should know, however, that with Louise, the silence won’t last long.

                “So . . . did you actually give Phil a chance at lunch or did you just make it look like you were non-stop talking?”

                “Were you staring at us during lunch?”

                “I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t forcing him to sit in an awkward silence.”

                “Well, it doesn’t matter. We spent the whole lunch period talking and I know a lot about him, which I think constitutes as giving him a fair chance.”

                “What’s his favorite color?”

                “Blue. He moved here from Buffalo because his father got a job here, and he doesn’t really miss his friends from his old school because it was so small and they weren’t that good of friends anyway. He wants to go to Penn State because he has family near there and because of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_. Is that good enough for you?”

                “Well, do you like him or not?”

                Dan hesitates, something that Louise clearly does not miss. Her face lights up instantly and there’s no question over how she’s interpreted Dan’s delay: she’s taken it as a yes, which she wouldn’t be entirely wrong in doing so. Dan wouldn’t say that he necessarily likes Phil, but he definitely doesn’t hate him and he can absolutely see himself liking Phil if he only gives him a chance. Of course, Dan’s always been rather bad at giving people chances.

                “He’s not as bad as I thought,” Dan says. It doesn’t exactly convey what he’s feeling, but this is one of those times that Dan feels comfortable keeping it to himself. “And I guess spending lunch with only him wasn’t horrible.”

                “I told you that you would like him!” Louise shouts quietly and victoriously.

                “I never said that,” Dan says, groaning. “I just said that he wasn’t horrible and I guess I implied that I don’t hate him, but that doesn’t mean I like him.”

                He turns around his chair so he’s not looking at Louise, whose cockiness is less than endearing right now. He can imagine the smug smile on her face and he can hear her clapping, too. However, he tries to block that out by looking at the paper on his desk, which has a lone doodle on it, the product of one of his many failed studying attempts.

                “You may be lying to yourself, but I can see right through you and I can clearly tell that you see him as a friend.”

                “I don’t!” Dan whines pathetically.

                “I can see it now: soon, you’re going to be best friends and you’re going to be begging me to let him join in on our movie marathons.”

                “Phil doesn’t really like movies.”

                “That’s beside the point, which is, by the way, that you and Phil are going to make great friends.”

                If Dan was somebody else, he’d probably find this annoying, but he’s not somebody else, which is exactly why he needs to stop thinking in terms of _what if_. Sure, if he was somebody else, he would probably have no problem befriending Phil, but life isn’t as simple as that and he can’t flip a switch and decide that he’s going to change. Would life be easier if he was somebody else? More likely than not, it would be, but there’s no use dwelling on the what if or the past when there’s a future ahead, and Dan’s more focused on the future than anything else. 


	9. Smoking Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Sorry for the wait! I've been really busy with school and I'm also working on like three one-shots, so it's been hard to make time to write this. Then when I went to write this chapter I realize that I put half of what I was going to put in this chapter in the last chapter, so I completely changed the outline for this one. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a filler but I hope you still enjoy it!!

Louise has been around for a long time, longer than Dan’s officially thought of her as a friend, that is. And if there’s one thing Dan has learned about her in all this time it’s that she likes control. She likes telling him what to do and what not to do, and he listens because he doesn’t like control. Except there is one thing that Dan can’t stand when it comes to Louise interfering with his life: her opinion on his smoking habit.

                Louise calls cigarettes death sticks and says he’s going to kill himself if he continues sucking on them.  But he’s careful to never smoke around her or other non-smokers, so he’s not sure why it’s her problem. Also, it’s not like he smokes to die; he just enjoys watching the smoke dance in the air and then disappear, but he can’t tell her that. Sure, he could watch it but not smoke it. However, the supposed death stick is calming in a way that she can’t understand because she’s never tried one.

                Plus, who is to say he’s for sure going to die. He listened in health class to the statistics and the numbers and that one guy came in with the whole in his neck who had to talk with that one thing that made his voice sound robotic. It’s a gamble as far he’s concerned, and well, this is a common conversation between the two of them.

                So when he goes over to her house on Sunday, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke on his clothes, it really shouldn’t come as a shock to him when she has something to say about it.

                “What have I told you about smoking?” she asks sounding rather horrified, but definitely not surprised. She’s standing in front of the door, blocking him from getting in, with her hand on her hip, and her signature disappointed frown on her face.

                Normally, that’s all she would have to do to get him to give in, but for some reason, it rarely works with smoking. Maybe it’s because smoking is the one thing, besides setting fires, he can handle to do on his own without feeling like he’s going to mess everything up with all of the power he has. Whatever the reason, he should be allowed at least a sliver of control over his life considering he’s allowed Louise to control the majority of his life.

                “That it’s a bad habit that’s going to ultimately lead to my death,” Dan says, his voice flat and unamused.

                It’s cold as it’s still winter and the thin leather jacket that he’s wearing provides barely any warmth. Louise doesn’t live that far away from him, so it shouldn’t have mattered. The walk was short even with a smoke break in the middle of it, but standing in front of Louise’s door as she stares him down was definitely not part of the plan.

                “Exactly!” she says, her voice raised and almost loud enough to be considered shouting. “I know you have no regard for your life whatsoever, but you have friends and family that will be extremely sad if you die.”

                “Louise, you’re my only friend. Now, can we please talk about this inside? It’s freezing out here.”

                She moves out of the way, but that expression doesn’t leave her face and her eyes burn wholes into his back as he walks past her, taking off his jacket as he moves.

                There’s an episode of Doctor Who on the TV and a cup of what looks like hot chocolate on the coffee table, but the TV is rudely turned off as soon as Dan sits down on the sofa.

                “I was going to make you some hot chocolate,” Louise says, taking a seat next to him, the remote in her right hand, “but before we can do anything, we need to talk about your smoking issue.”

                “There’s nothing to talk about!” Dan whispers, his voice raised so that it almost sounds like he’s shouting. “My smoking doesn’t affect you, so you shouldn’t have any say in it.” It’s only after these words fall from his lips, rushed and without any thought whatsoever, that he realizes the full extent of them. He expects her to tell him what’s wrong and what’s right and he lets her convince him to talk to Phil, all of which are things that don’t affect her in the least bit.

                His face drops for a second like a crack in his armor that he’s built up, and his argument is falling to pieces in front of him. Louise sees this and the smile on her face turns wicked. He struggles to put them back together before she can win him over and he quickly changes his facial expression back to what it was previously: his nose scrunched up, his mouth set in a fine-line, his eyes squinted and focused in on her.

                “I’m only doing this to help you!” she shouts back. “If I didn’t care about you, then I wouldn’t be wasting my breath on this with you, _but I fucking care about you_ , you idiot.” Louise is a calm person most of the time; there’s no denying that, so his facial expression freezes on shocked.

                “I know you care about me,” he says, his voice calmer but still forceful, “but this is _my_ life and I’m allowed to make ‘stupid’ decisions. Even my parents don’t lecture me like this.”

                “Do your parents even know you smoke?”

                “Well, no—”

                “See, this is why _I_ have to lecture you. I don’t want you to throw your life away for nicotine and alcohol. You’re smart and you’re better than this,” Louise pleads, looking at him with her puppy-dog eyes. They make eye-contact, and it’s clear that someone’s resolve is crumpling. As to whose it is, well, that’s up in the air.

                Dan’s never felt so defeated before the fights even over, and if he had to guess, he’d probably say both of their arguments are weakening to mere begging, but either way, he has a gut feeling, something that weighs heavy on his heart and mind and makes his stomach feel like it’s in knots, that this isn’t going to turn out in a way that he’s going to like.

                “Fine, I’ll stop bothering you about your smoking if you do something for me,” she says, her eyes gleaming with mirth, but her words surprise him because he had been preparing to give up on his position for the first time in forever.

                “What exactly would that be?”

                Louise smiles very smugly before she opens her mouth and her eyes shine in an evil way before she opens her mouth and Dan doesn’t even need to hear what she says to know he’s screwed.

                “You’ll find out tomorrow before school, okay? I just need some time to think it over. Do we have a deal?” she says, but he knows that she already has a plan for what she’s going to say and she’s just doing this to toy with him for a bit, maybe to make him feel guiltier than he already does.

                “We have a deal.” Despite his hesitance, there’s no denying that the deal sounds good, and Louise is nice for the most part, so he trusts that she won’t do anything horrible.

                There’s no going back now.

* * *

 

Dan goes home with a large weight on his shoulders that weighs even heavier on his mind.

                The temperature has dropped considerably, and it’s dark out, too, with stars that are hidden behind the glow of the streetlights. The weather and atmosphere reflects his worsening mood quite well and maybe if he was a better friend, he wouldn’t be in this position, but he’s worried about what Louise is going to ask him to do.

                He does trust her, with all his heart most of the time, but he’s reasonably worried. Louise has a history of meddling in his life and she has a list a mile long of things that Dan has promised her to do or improve on that he has yet to actually follow through with, so there’s no saying what it’s going to be really and that’s what worries him the most. Obviously, he knew what he was getting into when he promised her, but if he hasn’t actually done it yet, there’s probably a reason for that, too.

                He walks on the grass instead of the sidewalk because he likes the way it crunches underfoot when he steps on it. The sound is the only thing keeping him calm because he’s currently two seconds away from wanting to scream and at this point, he’s not even sure why.

                His mom and dad are watching TV in the living room when he gets home at nine o’clock, and he toes off his shoes with their watchful eyes glued on him and shrugs off his jacket, pretending like they aren’t there. This almost works and he’s able to make it all the way to the bottom of the stairs before they say anything.

                “So what did you and Louise do all day?” his mom asks, almost hesitantly as if she’s scared of how Dan’s going to react to the simple question.

                Guilt claws at his stomach and works its way all over his body in just a few seconds as the reality of what her voice means sets in. He’s a horrible person, an asshole really, and if Louise were here right now, she’d surely be talking his ear off of about how lucky he is to have such caring and involved parents.

                “We talked mostly,” he says without turning around, but he hopes that his voice comes out gentle and not rough.

                “Well did you have fun?” his dad asks.

                “I did.”

                The conversation ends after that and Dan stands at the bottom of the stairs for a few seconds, waiting awkwardly for them to say something else, but they don’t, so eventually, he just goes on up and isolates himself in his bedroom.

                He can’t fall asleep with so much on his mind, so he tries for thirty minutes even though it’s way before he usually goes to bed and then gets on his laptop, opens up Tumblr and tries not to think about how much of a fuck up he is.

                Maybe he’s going about this all wrong. Sure, he can’t tell his parents about a lot of the things he’s interested in because they’d probably freak out and make him see a therapist, but they’re his parents no matter what. Louise is right when she says that he’s lucky because he is so lucky to have parents who care about him and are pretty much willing to do whatever to keep him happy. And no one is expecting him to have a perfect relationship with them, but the least he can do is not shut them out completely and stop snapping at them. After all, that could be what Louise wants him to do; she’s always on his case about treating them better anyway.

                He falls asleep with his laptop on and his mind set at eleven o’clock after almost two hours of contemplation. It’s one of those types of falling asleep where it just happens so suddenly: one second you’re up and you’re not tired at all, but then before you know it you’re waking up in the morning with no recollection of ever being tired. His laptop is resting on the other side of his pillow and he closes his eyes for just a second, swearing that he’s just resting them for a mere second.

                But he doesn’t open them again until six thirty in the morning to the blaring of what he thinks is his alarm clock, but when he comes to it, he recognizes the noise as the ringing of his phone. For a second, the question of who would call him before he even has to get up for school bounces around in his mind, but then he remembers the deal he made with Louise and the peaceful look falls off of his face.

                He sucks in a deep breath before grapping his phone and clicking the answer button.

                “Hello?” 


	10. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still dead because of PINOF7 and I'm updating this from my grave. Also I know this another filler, but I promise that the next chapter will be loads more interesting and longer.

“So, I’ve been thinking about it,” Louise says into the phone, “and I’ve decided that if you want me to stop bothering you about your smoking habit, I want you to invite Phil over to your house after school.”

                Really, he should have been expecting it. After all, this has been something she’s been rather persistent about lately, and even when he does try, she still insists that he’s “not trying hard enough,” which is ironic because he knows that’s not what she means when she says it. She means that he’s not friends with Phil, and obviously, if he were trying hard enough, they would already be friends according to her, but he begs to differ.

                “Why?” Dan asks, groaning and rolling over so his voice is muffled by his pillow. “I’ve already given Phil plenty of chances and I don’t know what you expect to accomplish by forcing me to invite him over to my house.”

                “Dan, you’re forcing yourself onto him in a way that’s supposed to make a friendship possible,” she scolds, and even though he can’t see her, he can just imagine her rolling her eyes, putting her hand on her hip, and giving him The Look.

                “You’re forcing me to force myself onto him,” he responds, frowning slightly, the corners of his mouth facing downward just marginally enough for someone to barely notice.

                “No, I’m not. He wants to be friends with you, but what I’m saying is, the way you’re approaching it is all wrong. He doesn’t stand a chance when you have this preconceived idea that it’s not going to work out.”

                “Why do I have to give him a chance anyway? If I don’t want another friend, then I shouldn’t be forced to make one.”

                “You know why,” Louise answers flatly, irritated and forceful, and Dan’s frown deepens into a scowl, no longer contemplating, now just angry and annoyed because he’s practically promised her he’ll say yes and, well, it’s not hard what she’s asking, but it is pointless.

                “No, I don’t,” Dan says, almost whine-like. “Humor me.”

                “Dan, your parents are worried about you. You only ever hang out with me, and they want you to have a normal teenage life.”

                _It’s a little late for that_ , Dan thinks bitterly, _because I’m pretty sure arson isn’t on the list of things required to have a normal teenage life_. In fact, if he were to make a list of things that disqualified you from ever having a normal teenage life, arson would be pretty high up on the list in big bolded letters that would burn in his mind. He’s not a normal teenager, point blank, hasn’t been for a while or possibly ever and is already out of the running.

                “Well, I think it’s a little too late for that,” Dan says, sighs and rolls over onto his back so he’s staring at the ceiling, his voice no longer muffled, “and plus, this is _my_ life, not theirs. It doesn’t affect them.”

                “They think you’re depressed,” she confesses, rushed as if it tumbled out of her mouth without consent, quicker than she could catch it.

                “What?” he asks, horrified and unreasonably shocked. Really, it makes sense. The concerned glances they threw his way that made him freeze mid-step, the hesitance and worry in their voice when they talked to him and the delicate hand that they treated him with—the missing forcefulness in their words and actions that used to be present once upon a time—they were cautionary measures designed to keep him from self-destructing.

                “I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but you’re being unreasonable.” There’s a sigh, the sounds of something or someone moving, and then, “I was talking to them the last time I came over and you weren’t here, were gone somewhere or whatever, and they were telling me about how you shut yourself in your room and don’t talk to them much except for whispered words that don’t reach their ears and then they said, ‘We think he’s depressed.’”

                “They—”

                “No, Dan, I don’t even what to hear what you’re going to say because I’m starting to agree with them myself.”

                “I’m not depressed.” _I’m an arsonist_ , he adds in his head _, a pyromaniac, even, a liar and an asshole, but I am not depressed_ , and mouths the words under his breath without even thinking about it. “I’m just—I just like being by myself.”

                “You like hanging out with me,” Louise points out, her voice cocky and smug as if she’s found the bomb that’ll blow his whole argument to shreds.

                “With you, it’s different.” Dan groans and plays with the sheets on his bed, twisting it between his fingertips mindlessly. He almost wants to add that she’s not a friend to him, but that would dig him into a deeper hole and seal his fate with a burning kiss.

                “We’re getting off topic. Do you promise to at least invite Phil over after school today? You don’t have to beg him if he says no, and if you ask, I’ll stop bothering you about your smoking habits for at least a month.”

                “That wasn’t the original deal. You said you would stop bothering me, point blank, no fine print.”

                “Well, you got me mad, so I’m amending my original offer. Do we have a deal?”

                He rolls it over in his one evening with Phil and a month free of Louise on his back about his smoking or a free night but a month filled with complaining and constant lectures. The answer is clear before a question is even formed and the word yes slips out his mouth before he has a second to question it, and he can’t take it back, pretend like he didn’t say it, so he shuts his mouth and his mind.

                “Good,” she says, smugger than before, if that’s possible, and rather cocky. But then her tone slips into something friendly: “I’m just really concerned about you.”

                “I know.”

                There’s a somber feel to the conversation, even though it’s reached a standstill, that borders on melancholy, and then there’s the ringing of his alarm clock that breaks through that, pushes past the barrier created and shatters the silence and the moment. It’s like waters been dumped all over Dan and he’s suddenly awake, walking across his room to shut off the insistent ringing.

                “Well, I should probably start getting ready now.”

                “Bye and remember, you need invite Phil over tonight. The deal is over if you put it off.”

                She hangs up the phone and the sound rings in his ears for just a second before he sets his phone down on his desk and starts getting ready.

                The first thing he does is put on some clothes. He sleeps in his boxers even in the winter because he can’t get comfortable with pajamas on and only wears them when Louise is staying over. Black clothes are what make him feel the most comfortable and clothes that interfere with his monochrome look make his skin crawl as if all attention is on him, so he reaches for his black skinny jeans a gray shirt, slinging his favorite black jacket over it. His feet are cold, even on his warm carpet, so he slips on some socks, too.

                He feels more closed off with his clothes on, less exposed even in the privacy of his own room, and for some reason, he feels more at home, too, oddly enough.

                Distance from the call gives him enough room in his mind to turn it over in his mind, analyze every side of it, and decide how to go about things. First off and for most, he’s not quite sure what Phil and he would do if Phil agrees to go over to his house. They could play video games or watch movies (but Phil hates movies) or both do their own things, which is the ideal option in Dan’s mind, but Phil might beg to differ. Second off, his parents’ think he’s depressed and he can’t exactly go up to them and say, “I’m not depressed,” without sounding as if he’s covering up nonexistent tracks. So he’s stumped before he’s even got started and he can’t exactly stop setting fires just to please them and leave his anger to build and build until it bubbles up and exits through his mouth in a violent explosion.

                After a brief pause in his movements in the middle of his room, he goes to the bathroom. Dark circles are under his eyes, and his hair is curled and messy. His eyes are open, but barely, and his reflection blinks back and him sleepily. His back is slumped over and he places his warm hands on the cold edge of the bathroom counter for support. The edge of the counter digs into the skin of his palm and the harsh cold of it shocks him, waking him up in the process.

                Once he splashes cold water on his face, he’s as awake as he’s going to be, and he straightens his hair as quickly as possible, watching as the curls in his hair become nonexistent. It doesn’t take him that long to straighten his hair, just a few minutes because his hair isn’t that long.

                But still, his mom walks past just as he’s finishing up and says her famous line, “Has it worked yet?” with a smile on her face and a ringing laugh at the end of it.

                “Well, my hair is straight, isn’t it?” he answers, with less venom that normally, but she’s gone before he finishes and probably missed the change of tone.

                His mom is in the kitchen when he enters it after finishing up with his hair. She’s reading the newspaper from the day before, and he catches the words “ _Arsonist Still at Large_ ” on the front page in big, dark words that seep into his mind and leaves its imprint. It’s funny because he hasn’t set a fire in a while and although the urge has been building up inside of him since the last time he gave into his twisted desire, he hasn’t let go yet.

                “Anything good in the paper?” It’s a calculated question because it means that he can learn about the article is mom has no doubt already read and it’s one step closer to building up a better relationship with his parents that doesn’t involve them thinking he’s depressed.

                “Nothing all that interesting,” she says, shrugging, “but the police have released more information on the suspected serial arsonist.” It’s almost as if she doesn’t realize the unusualness of the situation until she gets to the word arsonist, at which points it fades, as if the pieces are coming together in her mind. It reminds of how he images her finding out that it’s him; the disappearing sentence that ends when she realizes that she doesn’t need to tell him because he’s the arsonist, her face freezing with the connection.

                “Are they any closer to catching the person?” he asks casually, grabs a box of cereal off of the fridge and pours himself a bowl.

                “They say they think they’re getting closer every day, but I wouldn’t buy it for one second. They’ve been saying that since the arson started.”

                He shakes his head, as if he’s disappointed, but on the inside, he’s relieved. There’s no sense of surprise that comes when she says these words, but they’re calming to here and some of the tension in his muscles releases.

                The conversation drops off after that. Silence envelops them, save for the sound of the newspaper as his mom crinkles and turns its pages and the sound of his feet moving across the tiled flooring. He sets his bowl down on the table with a soft _clink_ , eats in silence and tries to forget about the consequences of getting found ( _because he’s safe, he tells himself, so safe that they’ll probably drop the case before he even comes back after one year of being away at college_ ).

                Phil lingers in the back of his mind, refusing to go away and let him breathe, so he drowns in his thoughts while he eats with his mom sitting across from him, until finally he comes up for a breath, says, “I might have a someone come over later if that’s okay.”

                He can barely remember the last time he brought someone home who wasn’t Louise. There was PJ and Chris, but those were for school projects and they hardly count, so he doesn’t think about them, shoves them to the back of his mind and forgets. In fact, his memory fails him and all he can think about are snippets of the last few times that Louise came over, so he’s not surprised in the least bit when his mom gasps, smiles at him.

                “Oh, do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend that I don’t know about?”

                “No!” Dan says defensively. “I just—I’m trying to make new friends, like you want.”

                “I don’t care if you make friends or not I just want you to be happy.”

                “I know you want me to be happy, but I also know you think making more friends is going to achieve that.”

                She sighs and then she says, “Listen, I’m just—”

                “Worried about me, I know. I also know that you think I’m depressed, which I’m not, and I’m perfectly happy with the way my life is right now even if I don’t have a lot of friends or the normal teenage life, but I’m inviting someone over today, so I just want you to know.”

                “Okay, just, as long as you’re happy.”

                “I am.”


	11. Awkward Situations

His promise to Louise lingers in his mind the whole day. When he’s doing a timed writing for AP Literature, he writes but he’s not sure what exactly (probably a bunch of fluff that makes no sense but that’s most of what his essays are anyway and he typically does well). And he’s physically present at lunch, but he’s just running through the motions on autopilot and his mind is in a completely different place that’s glazed over and isolated. He’s not even sure why it’s such a big deal. Obviously, he doesn’t want Louise to bother him about his occasional cigarette, but all she’s asked is that he invites him over—he doesn’t have to entertain him or do anything really, but the mere thought is glued to his mind and he can’t stop turning it over and over.

                Either way, it plays in his mind like a song that just won’t leave and considering he’s never been very good at getting songs out of his head—he mainly just lets them fade away gradually on their own—he doesn’t have a single clue as to how he might be able to get this out of his mind.

                And when he’s two seconds from the end of the day bell ringing, his anxiety spikes to the point where he’s bouncing his leg, which is something he rarely does. He’s more of a tapper kind of guy: he’ll tap his fingers, a pencil, whatever is in his hand.

                He meets him at Phil’s locker after rushing to his to put away his stuff. Phil’s squatting down to put some stuff away when he walks up to him, and in his mind, some place buried underneath all of the worry, he makes some off-hand comment about how good his ass looks in those jeans, but that’s irrelevant. He clears his throat to get Phil’s attention, gives himself a quick pep talk when he looks up at him.

                “Hi!” Phil says, overly enthusiastic, his usual peppy self, which would normally annoy Dan a lot more, but his mind is a little clouded for a few reasons, so he can’t even bring himself to care as much. He stands up and brushes off the font of his jeans.

                “Hi,” Dan responds, more hesitant and drawn out, almost whisper-quiet. The next words are harder to push out of his mouth—lies have always been something that flows smoothly from his mouth with no difference in his tone than it would be on a regular day, but what he’s trying to say, something he would equate to apologizing in terms of his ability to get them out, is stuck in his throat like he’s choking and then: “Do you want to come over to my house? We could play video games or something.”

                “Sure,” Phil says excitedly, smiling. His smile, teeth and all, doesn’t produce the dimples that Dan’s does, but it’s the type of smile that lights up a person’s face like sunshine. ( _Genuine_ , Dan thinks, _that’s what makes it so powerful_.) “Just let me finish up here and then we can go.”

                He shoves one final thing in his backpack and then tightens the strings, setting it down to put on his coat. After he slings on his coat, he quickly puts on his backpack and shuts his locker.

                “Is it okay if we walk?” Dan asks, moving the straps of his backpack up further and turning to walk towards the exit, expecting Phil to follow.

                He sees Louise out of the corner of his eye, staring at them, much like he expected her to, with a proud smile on her face. But he turns away quickly and ignores her.

                “I can drive, but you’ll have to tell me where to go.”

                “Okay, great.”

                They walk in silence, side by side, with Phil just ever so slightly in front so he’s able to guide them to his car.

                It’s hot in the school, unbearably so under layers of clothing, but it’s the type of cold outside where you can see your breath. It’s a relatively windless day, but even the slightest pit of wind feels like pinpricks on Dan’s skin. He can’t see it himself, obviously, but he figures that he’s probably sporting rosy cheeks, the one splash of color on his otherwise monochrome appearance.

                Dan briefly glances over at Phil, only to find that his hand is awkwardly placed in his pocket. There’s no easy way to describe it, but his finger tips are just barely inside the actual pocket and his hand is twisted so his palm is in front. It’s probably the weirdest thing Dan’s ever see someone do with their hands honestly. Dan turns back to look straight ahead before anybody can notice.

                They get into Phil’s car—which isn’t anything grand by any means, but it’s a pretty shade of blue nonetheless. It’s also messy, too, which pieces of paper in the backseat amongst other miscellaneous things, and as odd as it might sound, Dan sees a sock or two on the floor.

                Phil awkwardly shoves some of the stuff out of sight with a bashful smile and a hesitant laugh. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess. I’ve been meaning to clean it up, but I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

                “No, it’s fine. I’m sure if I had a car, I’d be just the same way.”

                Dan wouldn’t say he’s a messy person, really. For the most part, he keeps his room clean, with everything shoved into the closet randomly, but when his room does become a mess, it’s hard for him to find the motivation to clean it again, even if cleaning it really is as simple as just shoving everything into his closet that isn’t some type of article of clothing. So he’s not sure if he’s lying or not when he says that he’d be just the same way. He could be saying it to make Phil feel more at ease, but at this point, he’s not sure if he’s nice enough to actually do that.

                Ever since school started up again after winter break, he’s been so off and on, especially with his promises to Louise, and he reminds himself that that’s all this is—a promise that he’s keeping, finally, and nothing more.

                The car ride is silent for the first minute it takes Phil to get out of the school parking lot, but then he puts some music on—it’s Muse, which instantly makes Dan feel just a tiny bit better about hanging out with Phil—but keeps it low, so when Dan tells him where to go, there’s no mistaking his words.

                It doesn’t take them that long to get there and it’s not entirely unpleasant. It’s not necessarily an experience Dan thinks he’ll be repeating any time soon, but if he were to do so, he wouldn’t mind all that much he decides.

                Some of his nerves return when they pull up to his house. Under Dan’s directions, Phil parks near the curb because there are two cars in the driveway already, meaning both of his parents are home.

                Ever since he came out as bisexual, his parents, especially his mom, see everyone as a potential boyfriend or girlfriend, so he already knows that his mom is going to bother him after Phil leaves, and that’s something he won’t ever be truly prepared for. But he still tries, even if it is futile. In fact, the first time it happened, it was with Louise but it didn’t take any time at all for them to decide their relationship was far from a romantic one. Ever since, they’ve just been waiting for him to bring someone home and for it to actually be because they’re dating. (Literally, every single time he’s brought someone over because of a school project, they’ve pulled him aside and asked him if they’re dating and every single time it’s the same damn answer.)

                When the car comes to a complete stop, he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door, slams it shut. He doesn’t bother waiting for Phil and just starts walking up towards the front door, knowing Phil will follow after him without a second thought. He’s nice enough to wait for him in front of the door before he opens it and steps inside. He shuts the door close behind Phil and kicks off his shoes.

                His mom is sitting on the couch when they walk in and she looks up and smiles when she sees them. “Who’s this?” she asks, a mischievous glint in her eye. Her voice feigns innocence, but he knows better.

                “His name is Phil,” Dan answers, rolling his eyes and taking off his backpack and jacket. “We’re just going to go hang out upstairs.”

                Phil remains quiet throughout the short exchange and awkwardly takes off his backpack and coat. A small, hesitant smile is present on his face, and his hands are in his pockets in the weird position again.

                Dan is about to show Phil upstairs when his dad comes down with a newspaper in hand a shocked expression on his face. He didn’t know Dan was brining over a “friend,” for lack of a better word (Dan wouldn’t really call him an acquaintance because they’re past that stage, but he’s definitely not a friend), so Dan’s not at all surprised by his dad’s reaction. It just would be nice if he was a little less obvious about his feelings, and Dan can tell that he’s not the only one growing increasingly more uncomfortable. In fact, from the corner of his eye, it almost looks like Phil’s sporting a light rose-colored blush.

                “Who’s this?” his dad asks, mimicking his mom’s question, his eyes going back and forth between Dan and his mom. He raises an eyebrow, settling his gaze on Dan.

                “I’m Phil,” Phil says before Dan can answer for him, extending his hand to shake hands. Phil and his dad shake hands quickly, and then Phil awkwardly drops his hand. “I’m a friend of Dan’s.”

                Clearly, he’s completely misunderstood Dan inviting him over, but that’s not a surprise at all. It’s kind of annoying (but what it’s annoying to Dan in all honestly?), but Dan doesn’t comment on it, just smiles out of place and hopes that no one sees through it. Honestly, he’s not even sure how Phil came to the conclusion that they’re friends considering they’ve talked less than a handful of times and they’re conversations, while they proved that they had a lot in common, always end rather abruptly.

                “I didn’t even know Dan had a friend besides Louise,” his dad says, laughing and moving past the two boys. “The last time he brought someone over other than her, it was for a school project.”

                It feels like the spotlights on him. He’s never had stage freight before, but he almost imagines that this is what it’s like. He feels unbearably uncomfortable in his own skin, and he’s sure he’s blushing, which he’s never been one to do so. He just wants to grab Phil’s wrist and pull him into his room, but he doesn’t want to come off too rude (because, let’s be real, it’s one thing to ignore random people at school but it’s another thing to completely ignore your parents).

                “I think you’re embarrassing him,” his mom says, her voice playful. Dan can’t see her, but she’s probably sporting a smirk.

                “What?” his dad asks. “It’s the truth. I was starting to think he would never have any friends.”

                At this point, Dan can’t handle it anymore. He feels an odd mix of anger and nerves, a combination that makes him a stranger in his own body, and he’s torn between wanting to punch somebody and wanting to go hide in his room, which he’s technically doing right now anyway. He grabs Phil by the wrist and quickly pulls him up the stairs and into his bedroom.

                His bedroom door slams shut behind them, a loud, piercing noise that shatters the silence, but only for a second. Then the silence is back again—just as deafening as before.

                The game in his console is Mario Kart, so that’s what they play. Dan pulls out his desk chair and his gaming chair from his closet and sets them up in front of the TV.

                The first thing Dan notices when they start playing is that Phil isn’t all that good. He’s not horrible by any means, but he’s a fair distance away from Dan and constantly getting sent back further. Maybe Dan’s just exceptionally good—he wouldn’t know because he rarely plays with other people—but he finds himself yawning and half-assing it, still maintaining his first place lead.

                Halfway through their second match, Phil says, “You’re cheating,” with a frown on his face and his arms crossed over his chest, the controller discarded on his lap. But he’s quick to pick it back up and start playing, not wanting to make any chance of him catching up slimmer.

                “No, you just suck,” Dan answers, ending it with a genuine laugh as Phil falls further and further behind. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to suck so much, but somehow, you do.”

                “Hey!” Phil says, sounding offended and leaning forward in the chair to focus better on the screen. “I don’t suck; you’re just exceptionally good or something.”

                “I thought I was just cheating.”

                “Well that, too.”

                “Just admit it, I’m a million times better than you.”

                “Just admit that you’re cheating.”

                “I’m not cheating!”

                They go back and forth like this for the next few games, but after five wins for Dan and zero for Phil, the game grows boring and Dan turns it off, effectively turning off their conversation at the same time, too.

                Silence envelops them for a few minutes, and Dan tries thinking of a way to break it, but he’s never been good at starting conversations, so it takes him a while before he finally thinks of something to say and even then, it sucks.

                “What do you want to do next?” It’s the annoying question that no one wants to hear when they’re at someone else’s house because it’s hard to know what you want to do when you don’t even know what all there is to do. But Dan’s fresh out of good conversation starters and he figures, at the very least, it’s better than sitting in silence until Phil awkwardly decides to leave.

                “I don’t know,” Phil answers, shrugging, his eyes moving around Dan’s room as if he’s trying to soak it all in and commit it to memory. “What do you want to do?”

                Dan shrugs and tries to find out what Phil’s looking at, but his room is rather bare, so he gives up trying to do that and instead turns to look at Phil. Phil’s looking everywhere but him, and Dan almost thinks that he’s realized that he doesn’t actually want to be friends with Dan. But Dan’s probably just being hopeful, except the idea doesn’t really sound like a good one or a bad one. He honestly feels like they’ve blurred the lines a bit, and while he definitely doesn’t want to be friends with Phil, it’s not a horrible idea and he’d probably get over it if it happened.

                “Look, I have things I would much rather be doing right now, so don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” Dan says forcefully.

                Phil’s eyes snap to his, and the sunshine that had previously lit up his whole face is gone, turned to moonlight, dark and depressing. “You’re not even giving me a chance,” he says, turning his eyes glazed eyes down to face the ground. He picks at the carpet and Dan watches, motionless and uncomprehending.

                “What?”

                “I know that you only befriended me to make Louise happy, but you aren’t even trying to be my friend,” Phil says sadly, and Dan’s thoughts come to a standstill and instantly, it’s like he’s the worst person in the world.

                Phil didn’t deserve to get caught up in all of this, but somehow he did. Louise and Dan have just been using them for their own selfish purposes—whether or not Louise’s intentions are pure (which Dan truly believes they are). They’ve been pushing him around, with Louise forcing him to befriend Dan and Dan using him just to make Louise happy with no intentions of actually befriending him.

                Dan rarely feels like a horrible person. He feels like an asshole, but that’s completely different. Honestly, he wishes, for Phil’s and his sake, that they had never met. If Dan had only been on time that day (which he has been getting better at, by the way), he would have never had to walk Phil to class, and sure, they’d still have the same first block. But that doesn’t mean that they would have to talk. Really, them meeting has been bad for the both of them, and even if Dan doesn’t do friends and even if he is an asshole, it’s in this moment that he realizes Phil is more than just a stranger who he can mess with without being affected.

                “How?” Dan asks, his voice a mere whisper, confusion laced in his tone.

                “I heard you ask her about it.”

                “When?”

                “Does it matter? You told her we can’t be friends, but you’re not even giving me a chance—that’s what matters.” Phil sounds genuinely hurt and Dan can’t stand to look at him—his frown, his eyes that are slowly filling with unshed tears—so he looks at his hands, which are rested on his lap.

                “Look—I invited you over, didn’t I?” He’s grasping at straws at this point, and he knows it. His voice no longer sounds forceful or even confident. _When did his life get so complicated?_

                “That’s not enough.”

                “I’ve been hanging out with you at school and talking to you.”

                “But did you actually do that thinking we could be friends?”

                Dan considers lying, letting the yes slip out of his mouth without a second thought, but he swallows the word instead because at this point, it would be pointless. Phil already knows the answer or he wouldn’t be asking the question in a voice that practically gives away the answer.

                “No, I—” Dan says, stumbling over his words. He takes a deep breath and then: “I’ll try harder, okay? I meant it when I said that I don’t do friends, so I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to act, but I have been trying. I’ll admit: I could have tried harder. Now I will.”

                It’s not much, but it’s a promise and it brings a smile to Phil’s face and a twinkle to his water-filled eyes. And that’s enough for now. 


	12. Two Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just posted a new story called You so please go check it out. Thanks <3

Dan has been semi-seriously burned twice in his whole life.

                The first time happened when he was young and he had a sparkler in his hand. At first, he was entranced by the sparks that it emitted and when it was so far away, it didn’t hurt, so he didn’t think about it when he dropped his arm and let it rest by his side. He can’t remember why he did this when he found the sparkler so interesting in the first place, but he can remember the pain, the sparks that once gave him amusement now attacking back. However, he had survived with just a few burns, ones that could be treated at home with ointment, so he felt powerful and in control. It was the spark that started it all.

                The second time happened not too long ago when he first set something big on fire. Once again he had become entranced by the flickers of yellow and orange, the dancing flames that engulfed a place whole, that he hadn’t thought to step back. At first, he felt the sweltering heat, but then the fire spread, jumping and reaching towards him. It only licked his arm before he ran until he was a safe distance away, but it had hurt for days after, and they didn’t have any ointment to put on it, so he just hoped it would be okay. And it had been. It healed on its own, and he was able to wear long sleeves until then.

                But he has burned others many times, hurt feelings in ways that could never fully heal, and sometimes, he thinks that he’s done this to his parents and everyone who has ever gotten close enough to him to know something about him. So even if he doesn’t particularly like Phil (or even if he’s not ready to admit that Phil’s a good person and would make a good friend) he doesn’t want to add him to the list of things he’s burned, ruined, _destroyed_ , and in the process, he hopes that he’ll stop hurting Louise, too.

                This morning he gets up early and doesn’t make an attempt to be as late as possible. In fact, he’s up before his alarm clock goes off and his mother doesn’t have to bang on his door to get him up. He grabs a random pair of black skinny jeans from his closest, puts on his favorite gray shirt and slips on his shoes before stepping outside of his room. He straightens his hair without his mom walking past and finishes getting ready before he’d usually be up.

                His mom’s jaw drops when she sees him in the kitchen, her eyes wide. She quickly covers up her surprise, but her eyes follow him when he moves to go get a glass of water. He would ask her why, but he knows the answer before the question even presents itself in his mind. He wakes up late, gets to school late, and generally does everything _late_ most days. In fact, this whole thing is surprising to even him and he’s the one who is doing it.

                He hesitantly grabs a glass and fill it up with water, feels her eyes on him with every move and itches to tell her that this isn’t the first time he’s ever woke up early, but keeps his mouth shut instead. His parents have walked on broken glass around him for too long, and while that doesn’t mean he’s going to completely change—for one thing, he’s not going to buddy up to them and act like they’re best friends and tell them everything—he does want to have a somewhat relaxed and normal relationship with them (whatever that means).

                He knows he’s not going to be that good at it, and this isn’t the first time he’s decided he was going to make a change either. However, this is the first time he’s actually felt like doing it. Before, his decision had come out of another one of Louise’s lectures and he had done it because he felt like he needed to in order to make Louise happy, but now, it’s about him and a little bit of Louise.

                 His shoes squeak on the ground, breaking the silence and shattering it into a million pieces. In his mind, there’s glass on the floor now, remnants of the quiet that was once in the room, and if he had to guess what his parents normally feel like whenever they’re around him, this would be it. His steps are slow and less sure, which is something he’s not used to because he’s usually sure of himself, confident in what he does even when he knows he’s destructive. In fact, the only thing he’s ever been unsure of his taking control of his life; he’s fine being in charge when it comes to anything else, but whenever it comes down to power over his life, he always passes it over to Louise, letting her tell him to do whatever she feels is “right.” But now, he’s two seconds from shutting down just because of the sound of his shoes.

                Why he even already has his shoes on is beyond him. Most of his shoes are kept by the front door and the ones left in his room are either his favorites or his least worn pairs. Either way, he doesn’t have to be ready for another twenty minutes, but he’s already completely dressed, his hair straightened (one of the perks of waking up early is not having to hear that horrible joke). At the very least, this morning Louise won’t have to wait for him in front of the school forever because she always gets there way earlier than normal.

                “Do you have to go in early for school?” his mom asks, her eyes still glued to him. She has a cup of coffee in her one hand, but her elbows resting on the table, the cup held midway between the table and her mouth, forgotten.

                “No, I,” Dan says. Once again, he’s said something he doesn’t know how to finish. He can’t outright say that he’s sorry and this is him trying to make up for everything because that wouldn’t be completely true and that’s too blunt for something that’s supposed to be subtle. “I just finally went to bed early enough I guess.”

                “That’s good,” his mom says.

                The conversation never goes anywhere unsurprisingly, but then again, he’s talking to her and not being snappy about it, which is what really counts in the grand scheme of things after all. Either way, they sit in silence, one pieced together by broken shreds and tape, one that’s not completely quiet but not noisy either. The silence follows them for the rest of the morning, from breakfast to the moment where Dan’s getting out of the car to meet up with Louise before school.

                “Have a good day,” his mom says when she pulls up to the front of the school and stops the car.

                “You, too,” Dan responds. He opens the car door, but before he leaves, he says, “I love you,” loud enough for her to hear him but quiet enough for it to still be considered a whisper. He shuts the door before she can respond and pushes his backpack further up his shoulder.

                Louise is standing in her usual spot, leaning up against the building. Her head is turned downward, and she looks like she’s doing something on her phone. Her hair is pushed behind her ears so that it doesn’t fall into her face.

                It’s relatively calm outside, with little wind and little commotion. Few students are outside, and the small amount that are outside are scattered about in their own little groups, minding their own business. It’s started to cool down, so there’s not biting frost to ruin the mood, and somehow, it actually succeeds in relaxing Dan.

                “Louise!” he calls as soon as he’s within earshot of her. His voice comes out sounding light and airy, happy even, which is so much easier than making his voice sound angry all of the time. The thing is Dan’s been living a lie for a while now, acting like he’s someone who he isn’t. He’s a nerd, an arsonist, a movie geek, but he has feelings, one that he had pushed down for so long that he was starting to believe that they were gone forever. However, they didn’t and now that he’s starting to let them back in, he feels lighter. For a while, he had two faces, but he’s slowly taking the mask off, revealing his true self.

                She looks just as surprised as his mom: jaw dropped, eyes wide, head titled to the side in confusion. But she’s even quicker at hiding it and by the time Dan’s standing right in front of her, she’s put her phone away and covered the surprise by a smile.

                “How did it go with Phil?” she asks, leaning forward expectantly.

                “Better than I expected,” he says. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and leans up against the building right next to her. “Did you know he knew that it was you forcing me to hang out with him?”

                “I’m not forcing you,” she answers, sounding offended, but he knows it’s all a lie. Their whole relationship is built on her forcing him to do stuff. “But no, I didn’t. How did he find out?”

                “He overheard us talking about it.”

                “So does that mean he doesn’t want to be friends with you?”

                “No, he was just a little upset that I wasn’t giving him a chance like I said I was going to.”

                “So you admit that you weren’t giving him a fair chance?” Louise’s smile grows to one of victory before Dan can even respond, and she looks as if she thinks she’s won.

                “I was,” Dan argues, “but me and Phil decided that I was going to give him a little longer of a chance, so I decided to even though I’ve already given him a few.”

                Louise isn’t convinced. She puts her hand on her hip and gives him an unbelieving look, one where she raises her eyebrow skeptically and her smile drops into a thoughtful expression. To top it off, she rolls her eyes.

                “Sure,” she says, but that’s the end of that and she smiles, wiping the previous skeptical look off of her face completely. It’s like a complete change in the dynamic of the conversation when she says, “I just know you’re going to love Phil when you get to know him. He’s really sweet and maybe he’ll make you want to be an author again because he also writes stories.”

                Dan doesn’t believe her. There’s no way he’s going to love him in any way. He’ll probably end up liking him enough for Phil to be more than an acquaintance but less than a friend, stuck somewhere in between, but they aren’t going to be best friends by any means. Plus, he honestly doubts Phil will make him want to write again. He hasn’t written anything in forever because he hasn’t had a single good idea or the motivation to do so.

                But he lets her go on and on about their budding friendship even if it is all make believe.

 

Teachers are famous for making students do projects with people they’ve never met, and nothing is more dreaded than when the teacher says that they’ve picked your partners. Nonetheless, this is precisely the reason Dan knows PJ and Chris. At the beginning of the school year, Dan had been paired up with them to do a presentation. It was easy enough because it didn’t require much outside work given that their teacher actually gave them a ton of class time to work on it, but it did force Dan to interact with two people he had only ever seen in passing.

                In the short time that they talked, Dan learned quite a few about them. For instance, PJ,              a guy with curly brown hair who is around the same height as Dan, is a filmmaker. He makes films with Chris and a few of his friends, and even though Dan’s never seen them, they are supposedly amazing. Chris, on the other hand, a guy with straight brown hair who is just as tall, is a class clown and a perverted one at that. He’s constantly making jokes, especially sexual ones, and can’t take anybody serious for more than two seconds. They’re nice enough, but Dan never really clicked with them.

                To say the least, Dan’s surprised when Phil sits down at the lunch table and asks, “Is it okay if they sit here?”

                “Of course!” Louise says. Maybe for her, this is just another opportunity for Dan to make more friends, but he can barely manage just hanging out with her and Phil, so he’s not what you’d called excited for them to eat lunch with them. But he knows he’s going to act excited because that’s just who he is these days and he really doesn’t want to hurt Louise.

                Phil introduces them, having no idea that both Dan and Louise already know them, but Dan sits quietly, smiles politely, as he does it even if on the inside he’s rather stressed. Just when he thinks that he can handle everything, life throws more stuff on his plate.

                “Hi,” PJ says nicely, looking around at the table.

                Louise and Dan both say _hi_ in response, but it’s Louise who picks up the conversation to start off with. Dan learns that Phil met PJ and Chris in his third block class, and for the first half of the conversation, Dan zones out. But then he remembers his promise to himself that he’s going to try harder in all areas and not just with Phil, so he brings himself into the conversation when they’re talking about their favorite My Chemical Romance songs.

                “How can you pick a favorite song? They’re all perfect,” Phil says. His elbows are resting on the table, his chin in his hands.

                “Okay but Famous Last Words is clearly the best song,” Dan adds in.

                “Are you kidding me? Sharpest Lives is,” PJ says.

                Louise doesn’t have much to say. She listens to them, but she’s never been that passionate about music in general, and she’s never been good at picking favorites for anything.

                Somehow, the conversation switches from music to the mall. (Dan thinks it’s because Phil mentioned that he wanted to go the mall to look at some albums at the music store, but he zoned out, so he’s not quite sure.)

                “We could go to the mall after school if you’d like,” Louise says, joining the conversation once again. “I’ve been meaning to go there as I still haven’t spent my Christmas money.”

                After hearing everyone else say they’ll gladly go, Dan reluctantly agrees and doesn’t miss the smile that Louise sends his way.

                _It’s going to be a long day_.


	13. The Perks of Being an Arsonist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n Originally, this chapter was going to have more on what happens at the mall, but I decided that I really wanted to focus on the bookstore scene as it's really important to the progress of the plot and everything else was just going to be filler anyway.
> 
> Also I'm extremely sorry for the long wait for this chapter (and i know it's not worth it at all). I don't have any excuses; I've just been low on motivation for a while.
> 
> And for anybody reading You, I'm updating it tomorrow, so look out for that. Besides that, I'm also working on a small town au which I'm really excited about.

Dan likes to sit on the floor in his bedroom, lighter in hand, the flame flickering between existing and not. In these situations, he’s like a god, in control of everything and knowing what’s going to happen before it finally does, but it’s not an overwhelming power—it’s something that fascinates him, excites him, _thrills him_. It’s something he’s comfortable doing and has done many times in the past, long before he started setting fire to bigger objects, but the point is that Dan likes the familiarity.

                Hanging out with Louise is familiar; hanging out with Phil is manageable, but that’s at his house. Now, he’s expected to hang out with them and two people he barely knows at a place he hates, which isn’t his idea of fun in the least bit.

                For a split second, he almost thinks that he’d rather be caught, lighter in hand and burning building behind him, rather than go to the mall and spent an agonizing hour or two trying to socialize before the implications of that thought hit him. At the very least, he knows for a fact that he would rather be setting something on fire right now than heading to the mall.

                Motivated by the idea of Louise backing off of him for a bit, he just has to keep reminding himself that this is all for a purpose, and once it’s all over, he can smoke a cigarette to calm his nerves and put his mind at ease. Then maybe he’ll start to think about the next thing he’s going to light on fire.

* * *

 

 “Where do you want to go?” is the first thing PJ asks when they arrive at the mall.

                Currently, they’re standing in Barnes & Nobles near the young adult books, which is right next to the exit. Past that, there is the food court on the left side and a row of shops on the other side. The shops eventually branch off into two parts going in opposite directions, like a T.

                “We should go into the back of Spencer’s,” Chris says, winking, and everyone lets out a collective groan. The front half of Spencer’s isn’t too scandalous—the worst thing they have on display being inappropriate t-shirts—but the back is a different story. If you peak back there in between the shelfs that separate it from the front, you can see posters of girls wearing nothing but revealing lingerie. Dan’s never been far enough to see what else can be found there, but everybody knows that you can buy “adult” products there, which always provides great humor for guys with the mind of a perverted 13 year old.

                Dan’s not surprised (and he’s sure no one else is either), but it’s not necessarily the type of humor he enjoys hearing. This is one of the many reasons he couldn’t see a friendship between them when they worked on the project for school.

                “Is sex all you think about?” PJ says.

                “Of course not! I think about food, too.”

                “I think he’s trying to tell us that he wants food,” Louise says.

                “If we go by that logic, he also wants sex,” Dan adds in, unamused and ready to just leave. “And I don’t think he’s going to find that at this mall.”

                “Why, you offering?” Chris says slyly, looking at Dan with a suggestive look and an eyebrow raised.

                “Can we talk about something besides sex?” This time, it’s Phil who speaks, who has been rather quiet for most of the exchange, uncharacteristically so, but the way Dan sees it, Phil’s just needed someone who talks just as much as he does, if not more, to finally get him to shut up.

                “You’re just mad because you’re still a virgin.” Chris is condescending in the way he says this, mocking, but jokingly so in the way that goes under the radar unless you’re looking.

                “Can we just go somewhere?” PJ’s practically groaning out of annoyance when he says this. “I’m a little hungry, so I figure we can stop by the food court first and then figure out what shops to go to.”

                “I’m not hungry,” Dan says, irritation clear in his tone. He promised Louise that he would give Phil a chance, but he never said anything about the other two, so he doesn’t think that he needs to impress the.

                Louise stares at him with murderous eyes, but he just turns his head and glances over at Phil, who is standing to the side, minding his own business. Phil’s his main priority right now, and maybe being an asshole in front of Phil’s friends isn’t going to help his case, but he’s pretty sure Phil’s desperate to be his friend anyway. Therefore, Louise’s stare is totally uncalled for.

                “Well, we don’t have to go to the food court,” PJ says. “It was just a suggestion.”

                Why did Dan come here again? What does he accomplish by wasting his afternoon hanging out with people he doesn’t know all that well? Louise is just getting more annoyed with him, and Phil’s not enjoying himself either (from what Dan can tell—not that he cares or anything).

                “If you’re hungry, then we should go,” Louise says. “Dan doesn’t have to order anything.”

                “I’m not very hungry either. How about me and Dan stay here until you guys finish up eating and then we can walk around the mall?” Phil adds.

                “Sure, okay,” she says, smiles and after a few seconds, PJ, Chris, and Louise all head out of the bookstore.

                “Uh, thank you for getting me out of that. I really just want to be alone right now,” Dan says as soon as they are far enough way. He turns to Phil, a thankful smile on his face.

                He rarely goes into this store considering he doesn’t like books all that much, but he does have to admit there’s something relaxing about it. Because of the coffee shop inside it, the smell of coffee hangs in the air, and very little noise can actually be heard as few people are even in the store. The tall shelves of books that cover much of the room make him feel like he could get lost, and he feels like getting lost for a while, just to isolate himself from humanity and clear his brain. He may not see the appeal in reading books, but he definitely understands why some people come in here and stay for an hour or two without looking for anything.

                “You’re welcome.” Silence. “I actually have a book I want to show you.” He turns to walk away, but looks over his shoulder to make sure that Dan’s going to walk behind him.

                “You know I prefer movies.” Dan follows Phil anyway. They don’t go too far, just one shelf over and back.

                There are a few titles that he knows, but only one catches his attention. One up from the floor is a small, paperback copy of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_. Right away, Dan knows this is the book Phil wants to show him from this section. They’ve discussed it before, but Dan’s only ever watched the movie, and while he loved it, he didn’t want to taint the image of it by the book (and also he just doesn’t want to read a book if he doesn’t have to do so). But he would be lying if he said he never considered reading it because he has and always ends up deciding that it’s not for him.

                He bends down to pick it up and studies the cover. It’s nothing too grand, rather simple actually, with a green cover and a picture of legs in the top right corner, the title in tiny font across the top and the author’s name spread out across the bottom so it stretches from one end to another. He flips through the book and the first thing he notices is that it’s written in letter-format, which does explain the opening of the movie now that he thinks about it.

                He stands up, book in hand, and looks at Phil. “Is this the book you wanted to show me?”

                “Yeah, I know you said you’re more a movie person, but the book is a million times better and it’s not too long of a read and I thought you might be more willing to buy it if you read a bit in store first. Obviously you don’t have to get it, but I don’t know . . . it’s basically the book that made me want to start writing in the first place, and I know you used to write.” Phil scratches his head for a second, almost nervously. “Just . . . think about it.”

                The back cover doesn’t reveal anything that he doesn’t already know from watching the movie, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. Although it’s pricier than most paperback books, he’s once again tempted to buy it with the money that he has on him. Plus, if he buys it, he can count it as giving Phil a chance, allowing a book to bring them closer. Louise would probably be happy.

                He reads the first page and then the next and then the next before deciding what he’s going to do. Well, he’s pretty much known since he picked up the book, but he didn’t want to buy it and then hate it. Plus, Phil told him to read a little bit before making a decision anyway, so that’s what he’s doing.

                He already knows the major plot twist and the basic parts of the story, but he’s still instantly captivated by the story from the first few words, wanting to read more to know more.

                “I think I’ll buy it,” Dan says, closing the book. “Who knows—maybe I’ll like it more than the movie.”

                “Oh, you definitely will,” Phil says, a huge smile on his face, his eyes bright.

                The rest of the time at the mall is rather uneventful. They go to a few different stores (not Spencer’s) and look around for a bit, but Dan doesn’t buy anything else apart from the book. Phil keeps the conversation going with Dan and Louise fail to do so, Chris makes a few dirty jokes before switching over to less perverted ones, and PJ talks about this short film he’s working on every so often. They only stay for a little over an hour and a half, but by the time they’re done, Dan’s exhausted. Social interaction has never been one of his favorite things, and he’d almost go so far as to say he’s an outgoing introvert, unafraid to speak his mind but wanting to avoid confrontation.

* * *

 

When Dan gets home, he immediately goes to his room and starts reading from where he left off, but shortly after sitting down, his eyes flash to where his lighter is hidden and, unable to resist the opportunity, thinks to himself that—at the very least—if he hates the book, he can always burn it (oh, the perks of being an arsonist).

                But he keeps reading, flipping page after page without stopping. Even though most of what happens isn’t anything new—only told in a slightly different fashion—it still feels as if he’s hearing about these things for the first time. In fact, the emotion is so real that he slowly feels himself slipping into Charlie’s mind, reacting as if everything is happening to him.

                He gets halfway through before his mom knocks on the door and calls, “Dinnertime.”

                Filled with a desire to know more, experience more, he’s almost tempted to ignore her and continue reading, but then his stomach growls.

                He puts down the book, but he can’t stop thinking about it. During all of dinner, he sits there, picks at his food and eats it slowly, too concentrated on what he’s read so far to participate in the conversation.

                Once he’s finished, he grabs his glass of water and goes right back upstairs.

                Why did he ever think movies were better than books? He’s not sure (but he does feel rather stupid for once thinking so, having probably based his opinion on all of the terrible books he was forced to read in class and overanalyze). Either way, all he knows is that he’s suddenly filled with the urge to open up his laptop and start writing. About what, he’s unsure, but he just needs to write—letters, stories, poems, it doesn’t matter.

                It’s been so long since he felt something like this that he almost doesn’t know what to do, but his passion for writing has come back, so he finishes the book, sets it down and opens up his laptop and starts writing.

                He’s not sure that he has anything to say, but he could always write about his life—more specifically, about his life as an arsonist and title it _The Perks of Being an Arsonist_ , so that’s what he does in a word file on his computer.

                There are a lot of downsides to being obsessed with fire to the point that you set things on fire—such as risking getting caught (and Dan hopes to never have to worry about that)—but Dan has to say, it does provide a great source of inspiration, and this time, he’s in control again.


	14. I Don't Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should explain myself a bit. I know I haven’t updated in forever, but that’s because my laptop broke. I’m still without a laptop currently, but I couldn’t late you wait anymore, and hopefully, I’ll be able to update more frequently.

Dan’s always found fire fascinating, the way it consumes something and leaves nothing left but ashes. More than that, however, he finds the end result intriguing because once something is burned, there’s no going back, no reconstruction that can fix it, no new coat of paint that can hide the damage. A lot of things are permanent, but none of them are nearly as interesting as what a fire does to a place, what it takes away forever. 

Right now, he needs the comfort of knowing something in the world really is forever, even if it isn’t life or happiness, and in all reality, he’s never been a big fan of those anyway. Between struggling to please his parents, Louise, and stay on Phil’s good side long enough to be able to say he’s officially given him a chance, he doesn’t know how he’s managed to stay afloat for so long. With his parents, their concern is understandable, and the same can be said about Louise to a certain degree, but lately, her caring nature, if you could even call it that, has been more suffocating and demanding than what Dan signed up for. Phil, on the other hand, isn’t a bad person at all, which is why Dan is so reluctant to befriend him; it’s easy being with Louise because she likes fixing people, but he wasn’t lying when he said he doesn’t do friends, and he definitely doesn’t want to drag Phil in to his mess (though he does fear it is too late to worry about that). 

It’s no wonder why he decides to go visit the swing--the first big thing he ever burned down, the start to it all--when it feels like his whole world is crumbling around him. Hopefully, it will give him the motivation to keep swimming until he reaches the end (because honestly, motivation for him is fleeting, which is why he sat down to write and never got past the second sentence, even though he truly did--and still does--want to write something in an attempt to let his feelings out). 

The moment his eyes meet the spot where the swing should be, he’s overcome with a sense of melancholy that borders on nostalgia. It’s not a feeling he can easily describe, but it feels like he should be swinging on a swing right now--one that, naturally, isn’t there because he burned it down late last year--looking back on his early childhood into his young teens, but this isn’t a scene out of movie, even if it does feel like one. With no swing to sit on, he climbs on top of the playground and sits with his feet dangling down the slide. No one comes here anyway, and the structure is probably too weak for his weight, letting him know by groaning with each tiny movement he makes. For some reason, the moment feels right. 

He’s constantly questioning his actions, wondering if it’s all worth it in the end, but it’s moments like these that make him remember why he started setting fires in the first place. It truly does relax him, and the swirling shades of red and orange are perfect and distracting him from his everyday problems. On top of it all, it’s not like he’s burning down anything of importance; in fact, he’s practically helping everybody out by getting rid of run down buildings, unlike the arsonist that’s always shown on television--the person who burns down buildings with people inside. He’s an asshole for sure, but he’s not a bad guy. 

Naturally, as soon as he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it, Phil shows up, wearing a space coat that would look dorky on literally everybody else except him and a hesitant smile. With his hands awkwardly in the pockets of his black skinny jeans, he walks over until he’s standing off to the side of the slide, as close to being in front of Dan as he can get. 

“You know,” he says apprehensively, each word coming out on its own breath, “you really shouldn’t smoke.”

“I know.” Dan laughs, moving the stick away from his lips long enough for him to blow out the smoke before bringing it right back to suck on it some more. “But I don’t give a shit.” 

For a moment, it’s like the life has been sucked out of Phil, his face frozen in surprise and his body as stiff as a statue, but it’s gone as soon as it comes, washed away by a small frown. 

“I’m sure your parents care and Louise, and I know I do.”

“You really shouldn’t.” Dan tilts his head up to look at the gloomy sky. It’s been dark and dreary all day, fog blocking the sun. It only adds to the somber mood of it all, and Dan almost feels like laughing. 

“Why?” Phil’s voice comes out genuinely curious, as if he hasn’t noticed how much of a jerk Dan is, which is impossible, because Dan has not tried to hide it in the least bit. Instead, he’s been open about it, flaunting it even, just to get Phil to leave, but clearly, that hasn’t worked out yet. 

“Because I don’t deserve it.”

“I know you think you’re horrible, but I don’t. Sure, you’re not always the nicest person.” Phil laughs as if this is some sort of joke, but Dan’s not sure he understands. “But you clearly care about Louise, which is why you’re always trying to keep her happy. Right? And you may be mean to your parents, but I’m sure you still say I love you to them because you’d feel guilty if you didn’t.”

Dan’s face says it all--Phil’s hit the nail on the head. A scowl blossoms across his face to hide his true feelings, but it’s already too late. Phil’s nothing if not observant, and no doubt, he’s already seen how his words have affected Dan. 

“No,” he says forcefully, words cold like ice and sharp as a knife. “Don’t pretend like you know me any better than I know myself.” 

“I’m not trying to pretend like anything. All I’m saying is that I truly believe that there is good inside you.” 

Instead of responding, he takes a moment to look out at the empty area of the park where the swing should be, trying to find the calm it provided him moments before, but it’s hard to find solace in something most people find dangerous when he’s standing next to someone so innocent to the world. 

“You shouldn’t.” 

Dan looks at Phil out of the corner of his eye, but his face is blank, void of any emotion, as he watches Phil breathe in slowly.

“I should probably get going,” Phil whispers quietly, voice just loud enough to be heard from where Dan’s sitting, and takes a few steps forward before turning his head around. His eyes burn holes into Dan, but he does little to react. Instead, he keeps his stare just as sharp and powerful, until Phil finally leaves, with heavy footsteps and a dejected look on his face. 

Dan’s heart aches for a few, moments that are filled with guilt before he realizes he’s doing what’s best for Phil. He’s already given him multiple chances, and each time, Phil’s proven that, if Dan were somebody else, they would make great friends, but to let Phil into the mess that is his life would be selfish and messed up. All he has to do is remind himself that what he’s doing is for the best to get the ache to fade into a mild annoyance. 

* * *

 

“You promised me you would give him a chance,” Louise says. Her voice is calm, but there is a warning her eyes that doesn’t go unnoticed by Dan. She places her hand on her hip, daring him to argue, and for once, he doesn’t give in. She’s not angry yet; at least, Dan doesn’t think she is, but one wrong step and she will be. He just doesn’t care. 

She had come over shortly after he got home from looking at the swing, and with a guilty conscience on his mind, she had taken advantage of his vulnerability and he gave in, telling her what happened with Phil an hour before. 

“I’ve given him multiple fucking chances, and you know what? It’s really fucked up that you want me to use him. Like imagine how he would feel if he found out I only hung out with him to get you off my back!” he shouts, leaving out the fact that Phil already knows. He’s bottled up too much anger recently, having been unable to release it his normal way, and now it’s all spilling out, erupting uncontrollably from within him. 

Naturally, however, Louise doesn’t see his words as a fight, but rather, she looks at the double meaning. She takes her hand off her hip and drops it back down to her side as a smile grows on her face.

“I knew you liked him!” she squeals. 

“No, I don’t have to like him to not want to mess with his feelings.” 

“Dan, don’t forget that I know you, and the Dan I know doesn’t care about anybody’s feelings if he doesn’t at least like this somewhat.” 

She walks closer to him, but he pulls away. Why had he put up with her for so long? He’s only been hanging out with Phil for a short time, but he’s already started to realize that his friendship with Louise isn’t healthy at all. She’s too forceful and dominant, leaving Dan to back down to please her and avoid conflict, sacrificing himself in the process, but Phil recognizes his boundaries and still manages to show he cares. Dan’s no baby; he may not be the biggest fan of taking charge and making important decisions, but he’s a senior in high school after all. Sure, he likes having a friend who can help him along the way, but Louise isn’t helping anymore--she’s taking over. 

“I think maybe we should hang out another time. I’m not in the mood right now,” he says, looking down at his feet. 

“Don’t be like that. I only want what’s best for you, and you need some other friends. You can’t live your life all by yourself.”

“I can live my life however I want to, and right now, I don’t want to do it with you.”

“Fine, but just know that I care about you,” she says before turning around and walking away, slamming the door to his bedroom shut behind her. 

Dan wants to shout that he knows she cares, that she just needs to find a different way to show it, but he’s tired of being the one to apologize whenever they have a fight. If she wants him to know that she cares, she needs to start proving it by swallowing her pride for just one second. 

He crashes on his bed as soon as he’s sure she’s gone. He just can’t seem to get it right today.

Since when was his life so messed up? The obvious answer might be that he fucked it all up when he caved in and started setting fires, but that wouldn’t be the correct answer. The truth is that his life has been fucked up for a while now, and he only seems to know how to dig a deeper hole instead of working to get himself out. While he doesn’t plan to give up on setting fires any time soon as it does help to keep him sane, he does want to work on bettering himself, and maybe--just maybe--then he’ll be the type of guy that would make a good friend for Phil. 

For a second, the work in front of him seems too much for one person, but it’s only going to grow if he puts off doing it. 

He’s been promising to Louise that he would try harder with his parents, but he has never been motivated to do it. While her support was nice, what he truly needed what support from himself, something that Louise could never give him, but now, he’s ready to support himself. After all, the first step to becoming a better person is fixing his broken relationship with his parents. 

And maybe, instead of bottling up his emotions whenever he can’t find a convenient time to set a fire, he could write, like he’s wanted to do for the past week or so. That way, he doesn’t explode like he just did on Louise (even though that was a long time coming).

Just thinking about it is making him feel lighter; hopefully, his motivation won’t leave him like it does for everything else. 


	15. Girls/Girls/Boys

Dan’s never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day, for the sole reason that he doesn’t think there needs to be a holiday all about love, and he’s not against love by any means. If he wasn’t as destructive as he is, he thinks he would want to one day fall in love, meet a nice guy or girl, someone he could be honest with and not feel like such a disappointment, but he doesn’t understand why there needs to be a holiday for something that some people can’t truly celebrate for whatever reason. Well, that, and he’s pretty bitter about everything these days.

Usually, he’d be hanging out with Louise right now, having a movie marathon that would start and end with  _ The Perks of Being a Wallflower _ , but after their fight not too long ago, he’s not ready to just let her back into his life as if nothing happened at all. He knows it’s not just her fault, but right now, pretending like it is makes it easier for him to deal with it and keeps him from feeling like he needs to be the one to say sorry first. 

He could just spend the day alone, but he’s so used to have Louise around even when he doesn’t want her to be that being alone just makes him feel lonely, a feeling that he was once used to, but clearly isn’t anymore. Except he’s not going to just give in simply because he’s feeling a little lonely. What would that show Louise? It would tell her that he’s willing to put up with her no matter what because he needs her, and while it may be true that he needs her, he’s done putting up with whatever she says just because she wants him to. 

He’s almost tempted to write. It’s a passion of his that he abandoned for a while, but he does have an unfinished story in his drafts and an idea of where to go with it. He just doesn’t have any motivation even though it’s something he enjoys, and he’d much rather spend his Valentine’s Day doing something that required a little less effort, like having a movie marathon. 

It’s not like he has many friends to invite over instead of Louise, which is one of the reasons he was always so willing to put up with her, and she knew it, too. While she may have been trying to change it, Dan thinks she also secretly liked having so much power over him simply because she is his only true friend. Of course, there’s always Phil. Dan’s more than sure that he’d jumped at the opportunity to hang out with him, and it’s not like he would mind per se. It’s just that the moe he hangs out with him, the harder it is for him to stop himself from befriending him, which would not end well for either of them. The only reason he stays friends with Louise is because he’s practically grandfathered in, but Phil isn’t and he doesn’t deserve a friend like Dan, one who is rude and inconsiderate even on the best of days. 

He could always hang out with his parents. After all, they are home and they are probably more than willing. Except, what kind of loser spends Valentine’s Day with his parents? It’d be better just to spend it alone, but then again, he is trying to at least attempt to repair his relationship with his parents. Is he willing to do it right now though, when he could be doing something much more exciting? Obviously he knows he’s going to have to do it eventually if he really is serious about fixing things between them (which he is). It’s just that . . . well he’s not exactly sure what it is, but either he’s not ready or it is the day itself, whatever the case may be, he just knows he isn’t going to hang out with them today. Plus--he thinks, and this may or may not be a way of convincing himself that what he’s doing is okay--they should spend Valentine’s Day together on a date or something, not hanging out with their shitty son. 

After running through all his options while staring at his ceiling, he decides that Phil’s the best choice out of them all (which is a really horrible way to think about it, but if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that there’s more to it than Phil being just the best option by default). And he did say that he was going to give him a chance, something that he’s been promising for a while and never actually living up to it. Even though he’s already at a point where he’s made up his mind about Phil, you can never be too sure. 

With that in mind, he sends Phil a text. 

_ Dan: Hey, do you want to come over? We could watch movies or play video games.  _

Phil’s response is almost instant. 

_ Phil: Sure. I’m on my way.  _

_ Dan: Great.  _

Now that he’s dealt with that, he gets out of a bed, gets dressed, and heads to the kitchen, where he finds his parents talking over breakfast. Hesitantly, he takes a seat next to his dad and picks up an apple from the bowl on the table, twisting it over and over in hands instead of actually eating it.

He’s not sure why he feels so nervous talking to his parents. Maybe it’s because he knows how horribly he treated them and now he’s worried that he’ll make one wrong step and upset them further. 

The tension is thick in the air, but whether or not his parents feel it, too, is a mystery. It’s like there’s an invisible weight pushing in on him, the thick air choking him, surrounding and suffocating him. He hasn’t felt like this around in his parents in some time now, but he can’t say that he’s entirely surprised. He knows he created this atmosphere all on his own; his parents tried to work with him, but he continuously pushed them away until they were too scared to say hi to him, worried that it would cause him to lash out at them again. They’re his parents; it shouldn’t be like this. He should be able to sit down at a table with them and immediately start up a conversation by telling them about whatever is on his mind. Except they haven’t been able to do that in a while, and it’s all his fault. 

“So,” he says, grasping at straws for what he should say next, “Phil’s coming over, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” his mother says, looking up at him with a small smile. “We’re going to go out later today. Your dad’s taking me on a date, so you don’t have to worry about us embarrassing you.”

“You don’t embarrass me,” he mumbles, turning his head down to stare at the apple in his hands. “And I don’t mind if you’re around when he’s over.” 

“You don’t have to lie to us,” she says. “You’re a teenage boy. Of course you’re parents are going to embarrass you; it’s our job, too.”

“Yeah, just wait until we bring out the baby photos to show to your first boyfriend or girlfriend. Then we’ll really embarrass you,” his dad jokes, laughing a little, but he keeps his attention on the newspaper in his hands. 

“As long as there are no pictures of me naked.”

“Well, there might not be any pictures, but that’s okay because we have a video that’s even better,” his mom says.

“I forgot about that! So much better than a picture.” His dad chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m sure whoever you end up dating will love seeing it.” 

It’s almost like they’ve forgotten about the past year (well, let’s be real, it’s been longer than a year, but it’s been the worst for the past year) and moved past it. Dan knows that’s not the case, but for right now, he’s content with believing it, even if just for a few seconds. It’s going to take more than a few minutes to fix the damage he’s caused, but they’re working towards it, and that’s what’s important. 

The air isn’t thick anymore, and Dan no longer feels like he’s suffocating, either, so he breathes in a sigh of a relief and takes a bite of his apple, allowing the joking to dissolve whatever tension is left. 

“Dear god, remind me to never tell you when I’m dating someone or I’d probably die of mortification.” 

“I thought we didn’t embarrass you,” his mother says smugly, the corner of her lips lifting up into a small smirk. “Or were you lying to us, mister.” 

“Oh my god,” Dan says, groaning. “What did I do to deserve this?” 

The groan wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but almost instantly his parents stop laughing and go back to doing what they were doing and the tension from minutes before comes back full force. He wants to say something, anything to bring back what they had only moments before, but he isn’t sure how to do that. The silence only grows, suffocating him like before,  the longer they sit there. This time he just lets it consume him.

Eventually, after five or so minutes of Dan awkwardly eating his apple, someone knocks on the front door, and he takes that as an excuse to get up. After throwing away his partially eaten apple, he wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans and walks over the front door. Like he suspected, he opens the door to find Phil standing there with his hands awkwardly his pockets and a huge grin on his face. 

Dan steps out of the way, letting Phil in and closing the door behind him. 

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting you to text me any time soon. I figured you’d want take hang out with Louise before hanging out with me,” Phil says casually. Dan isn’t sure what he means by this exactly, so instead of looking for a deeper meaning, he just takes it for what it is, hoping that this isn’t Phil’s way of calling him out.

“We’re kind of fighting right now,” he says, and then realizes how that sounds. He wants to add on that he likes hanging out with Phil, but he doesn’t want him to get the wrong idea, either. Dan’s still not sure that it would be all that great of an idea to befriend Phil, even though they do have a lot in common and get along quite well. Dan’s a mess, and Phil isn’t, so he doesn’t need a friend who will just drag him down. 

“Really?” Phil asks. “I just always assumed that you guys never fought.”

“We fight all the time. I . . .” He has to stop to think about what to say next. Should he let Phil know about how dysfunctional their friendship is? If he does, will Phil think they’re friends? Are they friends? But then again, he’s already started the sentence, so surely that means it’s too late to back out now. “Usually I apologize, but I’m waiting for her to do it this time.” 

“Oh, well I wouldn’t worry about it too much. The hallmark of any good friendship is fighting occasionally,” Phil says, looking around, acting as if he hasn’t seen Dan’s house before, even though he has. 

“Yeah . . . I just,” Dan says, but this time he can’t bring himself to finish this sentence. First off, he’s not exactly sure what he was going to say, but mainly, he’s afraid that whatever it was, it was probably too deep to tell someone who isn’t even officially your friend. (Do people even make friendships official anymore? Or do you just assume that you’re friends and leave it at that? Clearly, Dan’s not use to this whole friendship thing.) “What do you want to do? We could watch some movies or play some video games.”

“Well, what do you usually do?”

“Usually, me and Louise watch some movies, but I know you aren’t a fan of movies . . .”

“I like movies; I just prefer books. We can watch movies if you’d like.” 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“As long as we watch  _ The Perks of Being a Wallflower _ at least once, I’m in.”

“Good,” Dan says, sighing. It’s almost like a weight has been temporarily lifted off of his shoulders. Starting to walk towards his bedroom and motioning for Phil to follow, he continues: “Me and Louise always start with _ The Perks _ and end with  _ The Perks _ .” 

“I think I’m in love.” 

* * *

 

Halfway through the movie, Dan realizes something. Even if he is a little messed up, there’s nothing wrong with wanting friends. It’s not a matter of dragging them into your crap, but rather, it’s a matter of them pulling you out of it and helping you out, even if they don’t realize they’re doing it. 

“Phil, I think you’re my friend,” he says, turning to look at Phil, who is completely engrossed in the movie.

“Of course I am,” Phil says. “Now shut up. I’m trying to watch the movie. This is my favorite part.”

“You literally said that about a scene ten minutes ago.”

“The whole movie is my favorite part. Now shut up.” He may be trying to sound all mean, but he’s laughing slightly, so the full effect is lost, but it still brings a smile to Dan’s face as he turns back to watch the movie. 

Louise may have done it all wrong with the way she forced Dan onto Phil, but now that Dan’s realized that Phil’s his friend--and probably has been for quite some time now; he was just too stupid to realize it and blinded by his own opposition to it--he’s also realized that he needed a friend like Phil, someone who would help him without being so forceful about it, like Louise. And Phil is helping him, without even realizing it, because ever since Phil came into his life, he’s slowly started to feel the need to be a better person, and while there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s still an asshole, he does want to try to slowly better himself. That’s what counts. 

* * *

 

“I just realized that I don’t even know when your birthday is,” Dan says after they finish the movie. The credits are playing and they’re sitting on his bed and he doesn’t know why this just came to him (it would have made more sense for him to realize it when Charlie was celebrating his birthday in the film). 

“That’s so random,” Phil says, chuckling softly to himself, “and I don’t know when your birthday is, either.” 

“It’s June 11th.”

“Mine’s January 30th.” 

“Your birthday literally just happened and you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t think you’d care.” 

It hurts, regardless of whether or not it was intended to. Sure, at that time, Dan was still trying to convince himself that they were--in no way--friends, but that also doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t have cared (well, he probably would have told himself he didn’t). And he always just assumed that Phil was going to continue to pursue a friendship with Dan regardless of whether or not he cared. 

“I . . . you’re probably right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’re friends now, and that’s in the past.” 

“I still feel like I should get you a present.”

“Hey, if you want to get me a present, I’m not going to stop you.”

* * *

 

They end up watching a few more movies after  _ The Perks of Being a Wallflower _ , and after they finish with the same movie they started with, Phil goes home, leaving Dan with his thoughts. If Phil can continue to forgive him for everything he’s said and done to him in the short time they’ve known each other (literally, it’s been just over a month that they’ve known each other and in that time so much has already happened), then surely he can forgive Louise just one more time. After all, her intentions were in the right place; she just had a very poor way of going about them, and Dan can’t say that he hasn’t been in the same boat before, either, so it’d be hypocritical of him to get so mad at her for something he’s done, too. 

A better person wouldn’t hold grudges. Isn’t that what Dan’s trying to be--a better person? He doesn’t have to forgive her entirely, but he also can’t keep blaming her just to make himself feel better even if it is easier than owning up to his own mistakes. Yes, Louise tried forcing him to do a lot of stuff he said he didn’t want to do (namely befriend Phil), but he let her and then got mad at her for doing it, even though he had practically encouraged it. He doesn’t have to like Louise right now, but he doesn’t have the right to act all innocent when he knows he isn’t. 

Sure, it would be nice if Louise would apologize and own up to her mistakes as well, but Dan shouldn’t refuse to do it just because she is. If he does, he’s not going to become a better person; he’s just going to be the asshole that he’s always been. Isn’t that what he’s trying to avoid?

With that in mind, he knows what he needs to do.

_ Dan: Hey I’m really sorry for blowing up on you the other day. I shouldn’t have acted like it was all your fault when it was both of ours. And I should really thank you for insisting I hang out with Phil because he’s a really good friend and I’m glad I have him to talk to. And we’re officially friends now so you don’t have to keep insisting I hang out with him (in fact me and him watched movies today and i didn’t even need you to ask me to). I know you care about me and that shouldn’t have made me so mad.  _

It may not have been the ending he expected when he started the day, but it was what he needed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few quick updates:
> 
> 1) I've pretty much finished planning out this story. I have like 8 chapters that aren't fully planned but I have an outline for them, so I know what's going to happen over the course of the chapters, just not what happens when. There are going to be 31 chapters and an epilogue unless something changes. 
> 
> 2) You is not longer going to be written as a phanfiction. For more information on why view the a/n at the end of chapter two of You. I have a few different one-shots in the works so look out for them and a short story that I'll be posting soon (like 10 chapters and not phanfiction). 
> 
> 3) Also, check out this amazing [artwork](http://jasminestardes.tumblr.com/post/140855900166/hi-im-trash-and-im-obsessed-with-ctrlphan-s%20) jasminestrades did for this story.
> 
> 4) This isn't an update but remember when I promised you I wouldn't make you wait another month for an update? I'm so sorry but I lost motivation to write this story for a few weeks and I've just got my motivation back, but if you want to read a story with way better writing and consistent updates, you should check out my story pretty people don't die because that stories been my main focus for the past few weeks (in all seriousness, i really enjoy writing it and i'm going to talk about it a lot probably because i'm super happy with how it's turning out). But I swear on my life this time I won't make you wait so long, and I hoping that now that I've finished planning out this story updates will be quicker. 
> 
> 5) Also I'm too lazy to come up with titles for these chapters any more and I'm just going to start naming them after songs I listened to while writing them because why not. 
> 
> 6) I think that's all for now. How did you like the chapter? I think I'm starting to get better at making the chapters a decent length (this is 3,000 words) and I've been working on my writing and trying to get better at adding in more details and more dialogue, so tell me what you think!!


	16. Teenage Dirtbag

By the next day, Louise has already responded, but Dan--slightly worried to hear her response and feeling slightly put off by the fact that it took her so long to respond--hasn’t read it yet. He’s already forgiven her--it’s not about that--but has she forgiven him? For some reason the thought had even crossed his mind until after he sent the text. Usually his apology is all it takes for them to go back to being best friends, but this time wasn’t like normal, at least to him anyway. Maybe he’s overthinking it, but he can’t help it, not now that he’s decided to be a better person, that is. 

It’s a Monday. Normally, that’d mean school, but--despite the fact that it had been starting to warm up, or come as close to warming up as it can in this god-awful state in the middle of fucking February--Mother Nature decided to be a bit of a bitch--or a goddess, depending on how you look at it--and make it drop way below zero overnight. Naturally, this means no school, and it also means that Dan, who is still too worried to open the text from Louise, has nothing to do and no one to hang out with. Of course, there’s always Phil, but Dan’s not sure if they’re at the point in their friendship where they are able to handle hanging out for two days in a row without running out of things to say. 

This would clearly be a great day to make good on his resolution to better his relationship with his parents even further. After all, he can’t expect for all the rips to have been mended yesterday in such a short time, especially considering how they reacted to one groan, but even though school was cancelled for him, that didn’t mean the same for his parents and their jobs, so that’s out of the equation. 

He could write, too, but even if he’s able to trick himself into thinking that he has enough motivation to do that long enough to turn on his laptop, he’s no fool and he knows that as soon as he opens up a document to write, whatever motivation he had will disappear, leaving him staring at a blank page for a few seconds before he gives up, opens up a new tab, and logs in to tumblr. And if he’s going to end up wasting his day on tumblr, he’d rather skip the middle man completely and just go straight on it. 

The thing is, however, that he really doesn’t want to waste his whole day on tumblr. There are so many better things that he can do to be productive, but if he even goes on tumblr for one second, he knows he’s not going to want to do anything significant for the rest of the day because he’s a lazy asshole among many other things. 

He’s almost tempted to start planning his next fire as he hasn’t done one in what feels like forever, but it seems almost stupid to be thinking about such a thing when the weather is in such a state. He’d only be teasing himself, something that he’s not quite fond of doing, so he decides against it (at least for now), fully aware that he’ll probably crack by the end of the day if he doesn’t find anything better to do. 

If he were to just look at the text, maybe he’d be able to hang out with Louise, but there’s no guarantee that will work at all. Even if it did, does he really want to hang out with her? What would they do? Usually, they either watch movies or mind their own business, both of them on their phones--which means that Dan’s on tumblr and Louise is doing god-knows-what. Or Louise lectures him, but he can’t think of anything in particular that Louise knows about that would make her want to lecture him, so he doubts that would be likely. 

He could always just stay in bed all day, fading in and out of sleep, but that’s even worse than spending all day on tumblr and he’s never been a big fan of sleeping in all day because then he just feels like he missed something even if there was nothing to miss (which, let’s be honest, there’s nothing for him to miss right now anyway). 

He’s torn away from his thoughts by the sound of his phone going off, alerting him of an incoming text message. He almost doesn’t feel like answering it and stays put for a few seconds, with his hands behind his head as he--once again--stares at the ceiling, but then it occurs to him that he’s bored and if someone’s texting him, it could be a good excuse for him to not spend the day all alone. 

He rolls over, pulling one of his hands out from under his head as he does so, and grabs his phone off his nightstand. 

_ Phil: Hey want to come over? We never did get around to playing video games yesterday.  _

Well, it looks like he won’t even have to ask. Sure, there’s still that thought in the back of his mind, questioning if he can really stand another day with Phil, but Phil’s the one who invited him and he’s pretty sure it’s just implied that he’s supposed to say yes considering they’re friends. 

_ Dan: Sure. _

_ Phil: Great. Come over whenever.  _

After Phil texts him his address, Dan doesn’t respond, figuring that there’s no need to. They can talk when he gets to Phil’s house or they can just play video games (though Dan’s pretty sure most friends talk even when doing that, but he wouldn’t know, of course). Plus, he’s not exactly sure how to respond--but then again, he’s never been that good at social interaction, which was one of the reasons he chose keep himself isolated from everybody else. 

First, however, he needs to bring himself to get out of bed, which requires way more energy than it should. Every single time he’s finally talked himself into sitting up, he remembers how comfortable it is and how cold it will be once he’s out from under the comforter, meaning he does nothing for quite some time. Just because he didn’t want to spend the whole day in bed doesn’t mean it’s going to be any easier for him to motivate himself to get out of bed--after all, he lazy as fuck most days and can really only motivate himself to watch things burn (of course, no one knows that). 

Once he’s finally able to roll out of bed, quite literally, he’s hit with a wave of cold air. Even with the heat turned on high, his room always manages to get cold in the winter, which is why he has such a thick comforter, but it’s just another thing making it harder for him to leave his bed. He quickly throws on a pair of black skinny jeans (which account for a high percentage of his jeans) and a black t-shirt, not caring too much about his appearance to really think through his outfit right now. 

After he’s done getting dressed, he takes one quick look around his room before grabbing his phone and heading towards the bathroom, closing his door behind him as he goes. He brushes his hair just to make sure that it’s not sticking up everywhere and then, with nothing let to do, he heads over to Phil’s house, making sure to put on his heavy winter coat before he goes. (Normally, he’d put on his leather jacket, but he’s not in the mood to completely freeze today.)

Of course, the one tiny--okay, huge--problem that he hadn’t considered earlier is the fact that he doesn’t have a car and therefore has to walk to Phil’s house because his parents have already left for work. Even with a heavy coat on, he’s still freezing (of course he is; there’s a reason they cancelled school) and Phil’s house is at least five minutes away if not further. He’s almost tempted to call Phil and see if he can come pick him up, but he feels almost pathetic doing that. He’s seventeen years old for christ’s sake and he doesn’t even have a car and has to rely on his parents to take him to most places unless he wants to walk. Which means that he’s going to have to suck it up and walk. 

It goes without saying that Dan’s cheeks instantly feel raw as the harsh wind nips at his skin and the cold air does nothing to help it, but still, he gets annoyed, even though he has no right to and walks with his hands in his pockets in an attempt to keep them semi-warm and a frown on his face. 

It only takes him a little longer than five minutes to get to Phil’s house, but it feels like an eternity before he’s knocking on the door and Phil’s opening it with a smile only for it to drop into a frown on worry when he sees the frozen state that Dan’s in. 

“What happened?” Phil asks as he ushers Dan in and closes the door. “Did you walk all the way here?”

“Uh, yeah.” It sounds so stupid when Phil says it like that (but then again, it sounded stupid from the beginning). 

“Oh my god!” Phil says, his jaw dropping. “Are you stupid? It’s way too cold out there, and I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of warning saying that you shouldn’t be outside for so long.”

“I didn’t have any other way to get here.” Dan shrugs, taking off his coat and his shoes. “And I don’t need you to worry about me, too. Louise already does that enough for you and any other friends I may get in my life.” 

“Well, I can’t blame her for worrying if you do stupid things like this all the time. You could have texted me if you needed a ride. I have a car,” Phil scolds, shaking his head slightly, but he drops it almost immediately. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited PJ and Chris over. I figured playing video games with four people would be more interesting than with one.”

The second he hears that PJ and Chris are going to be hanging out with him, he wants to open up the front door and walk out, but he knows that he shouldn’t. After all, his whole body is still freezing from being out in the chilly weather and he doesn’t want to come off too rude (even though he pretty much is). If he had known they were going to be here beforehand, he would have made up some excuse to stay home. Nothing against them personally (well, maybe Chris, but definitely not PJ), Dan just wasn’t a big fan of hanging out with people he wasn’t totally comfortable with, and well, he barely knows them, only having hung out with them once besides to work on something for school. 

Social situations have never been something Dan’s comfortable with. He can hang out with Louise with no problem because he’s been doing for so long and she’s good at doing things that Dan likes. Besides her, he only really hangs out with Phil and he’s still trying to get more comfortable with it. There’s a reason he’s practically invisible at school and it’s because he never goes out of his way to interact with people if he doesn’t have to. 

But Phil’s clearly hoping that he’ll be okay with it, and well, he’s not completely heartless.

“I don’t mind,” Dan says, forcing a smile onto his face even though he just feels like groaning and climbing back into bed. He can already tell this isn’t going to go all that well. Even if he is able to smile through it and not let anybody realize how he’s truly feeling, these types of things always make him stressed, and when he’s stressed, he’s either watching something burn down to the ground or smoking a cigarette, two things that most people wouldn’t classify as good things for people to do. 

“Okay, great! They’re already here and I think they’re setting up a video game. I told them to just pick whatever, but if you don’t like it, we can switch it out after a round or two,” Phil says, leading Dan into what he assumes is the living room. 

“As long as I’m good at it, I don’t really care all that much.” 

“I’m secretly hoping that either PJ or Chris will be able to beat you honestly.”

“Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t?”

“We both know I can’t unless I get really lucky or I distract you, but I’m going to try and play fair, which is why I’m putting my faith into them.” 

“Yeah, when do you ever play fair.”

“Hey!” Phil hits him on the shoulder lightly as they walk into the living room.

It’s nothing grand. There’s a TV along one wall and a couch on the opposite, with a coffee table separating them and a computer desk off to the side. A small bookshelf is covered in tiny knick-knacks, movies, and videogames instead of actual books. Still, Dan takes it all in, allowing his eyes to roam all over the room. 

“Kinky,” Chris says with a goofy smile on his face. “I didn’t think you’d be into that, Phil.”

“Don’t listen to him,” PJ says. “I think I’m going to have to cut off his tongue while he’s sleeping one night.”

It’s hard for Dan to keep up with the fast-paced conversation. It’s easy when it’s just Phil, but now that there’s so many voices, he can hardly take it all in. When he finally manages to keep up, he can’t find time to say anything, leaving him standing awkwardly as the rest of them get situated and ready to start playing. 

“Are you going to come or are you just going to stand there?” Chris asks. Dan’s not too sure if he means for it to sound so rude, but even though it’s the exact same thing he would have said, he feels slightly offended by it. He probably didn’t mean it like that because even though he’s definitely the class clown type, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy--just someone who doesn’t realize when he’s stepping over the line. 

He doesn’t say anything to respond. He just walks over and sits down in the empty seat, grabbing a controller while he’s at it, hoping that they finish this soon so he can go home and find some way to calm down (which means that he’ll probably resort to grabbing his bear out of his closet again as it’s definitely way too cold for him to go outside and smoke and way too early for him to even think about setting a fire). 

* * *

 

As it turns out, PJ and Chris are both really good at video games, but so is Phil and Dan’s still better than him. While he finds himself struggling at times to stay in the lead, he’s easily able to win multiple rounds, causing Phil to groan every time. At first, it’s all games with all of them focusing on trying to win, but after Dan’s won more rounds than not, it’s like they give up and instead of staying silent except for the odd remark, they’re talking and holding full conversations as they play. 

Dan can’t even talk to them properly when that’s all he’s focusing on, so he definitely can’t do it when he’s busy playing a game. It’s just that he can’t help but notice how they all get along so well while Dan’s like the odd ball out (who is starting to feel like he’s a third wheel even though there’s four of them, not three). He wants to talk--well, actually he doesn’t, but he feels like he should. The problem is that whenever he thinks of something to say, the conversation has already moved on from that and they’re all laughing, probably too engrossed in whatever they’re talking about to realize that they’ve left Dan out.

Except, as soon as he thinks that, Phil has to bring him into it.

“What do you think, Dan?” Phil asks.

“What?”

“We were talking about possibly going to the mall after this. Do you want to come?”

For a second, Dan wants to say yes. If they’re planning on going to the mall, that means they’re probably ready to be done playing video games soon and Dan doesn’t want to go home quite yet, but then he remembers PJ and Chris and how he already feels suffocated after only hanging out with them for a short time.

“I can’t. I have some stuff to do around the house.” 

“Oh, that’s okay. We can always do it some other time.”

“Yeah, sure.” His voice sounds strained to his own ears, but nobody says anything about it and he hopes that it’s just his mind messing with him.

Needless to say, Dan loses that round. 

* * *

 

After they get done playing, shortly after the conversation about the mall, Phil gives Dan a ride home, having insisted that Dan should not be out in this weather for longer than a few seconds even with a coat on. They don’t talk for much of the ride, save for a few words here and there, but luckily it’s rather short, being only a matter of minutes before they’re in Dan’s driveway. However, after being drained from hanging out with so many people at once, Dan can’t get out of their soon enough and before he knows it, he’s rushing to his bedroom to find comfort in the only thing he can, setting fire to something he once loved. 

It’s been awhile since he’s done it as he was too busy trying to deal with Louise and Phil for the past month. It feels nice just thinking about it, and his shoulders visibly relax as soon as he pulls it out along with his lighter. Despite the fact that he started burning it quite some time ago, it still only has a few burnt spots to show for it, but not for long.

He doesn’t waste any time in bringing the lighter to it and watching as the flames lick at the bear and turn the once yellow color black. And as that part of the bear is burned so it’s hardly recognizable, it’s like a part of his past has faded away, leaving a blank slate for him to start all over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it hasn't even been a week since I posted the last chapter and I'm already updating again (bet you didn't see that coming) (and to celebrate, here's another extremely long author's note!!). 
> 
> Okay, but in all seriousness, I wanted to update again because I have some cool stuff I wanted to tell you. 
> 
> First off, I'm working on a collab with daydream-masterpiece and we're going to post it on a collab account once we've got all the finer details figured out, so you should go follow twophangirls on wattpad for that. 
> 
> Second off, I added a short author's note to the end of the prologue saying this, but for anybody who hasn't seen it or already figured it out on their own, this story does take place in the US, which I thought was kind of obvious when back in chapter seven (I think) they were complaining about how boring the state they lived in was and of course there were a few other parts where I hinted at it, but as a few people have been commenting about it, I thought I'd clear up any confusion. I know some people don't like American AUs because Dan and Phil are British, but here's how I feel about this: 1) I'm way more comfortable writing American AUs because I'm a shitty American 2) I'd rather read a fanfiction where they're American and aren't OOC than a fanfiction where they're British and are way OOC 3) so I don't understand why people make such a big deal about American AUs as long as they still act like real Dan and Phil and 4) I don't really think it affects the overall story that much anyway, you feel? So the next time I write about something that isn't the same in the US as it is in England I'd really appreciate it if no one commented saying I'm wrong.


	17. Mama

Dan’s a fire, one that never burns out, fueled by a burning hatred and people who will never understand him and the storm raging behind his eyes. He’s a light too bright, causing people to look away and turn a blind eye to everything he does and will do. And he’s dimmer than nightfall, split down the center, one half blending in and the other perfectly placed in plain sight so no one will ever notice. He lives two lives to go with the changing of the hour, the fall and rise of the sun, but they’re muddled now, mixed together to the point where you can’t tell where one stops and the other starts. The light isn’t bright and the dark isn’t dim and it’s starting to show. He can’t blend if he’s not an extreme, so unless he can separate the two, pull them apart and put them back together, he’ll have to hide under his covers in the darkest corner of his room. He’s hot to touch and cool to hear, two contradictions wrapped up in one that coexist peacefully until they’re put to the test. 

Like the swirling smoke that stains his vision and controls his thoughts, he’s not grounded, with the knowledge that he’ll leave this burning place one day keeping him ready to soar at any moment. He’s here one day and gone the next, exactly like the two parts of him that he feels like he’s always switching between. 

Even as he walks from his house to the park with no swing, he knows one day he’ll forget the sidewalks that take him there, and he’ll leave behind half of him--it’s only a question of which part will be etched into all of the places that he’s caused destruction. But he can’t wait until them to finally make the waters clean again, can’t put it off until the last second because then he knows it will be impossible. 

Each step he takes, he leaves a path of destruction in his wake, and even though nobody else can see it, he can. No one else may know he’s an arsonist, but how is a mystery when he watches as things succumb to the darkness inside of him. Not only is he destroying what’s around him, he’s destroying himself from the inside out just to feel calm for a few minutes out of the day.

And in a rather hectic world just a match away from burning down, that’s a lifeline that he just can’t afford to give up. 

* * *

 

There’s a slight chill to the air as he lights up the last cigarette in the pack and a rush of wind that feels like needles on his skin as he brings the stick to his lips.

This is a routine he’s all too familiar with. No matter how much he’s learned about the dangers of what he holds in his hand, he can’t seem to bring himself to quit, so with each day that he lights up, he falls more and more into the habit, allowing it to take over his movements until he can do it without thinking or seeing. 

And with each puff, he can feel the anger and nerves melting away, imagines them as something tangible slowing retreating away from sight. His eyes are closed, his feet planted firm, and his racing heart is slowing down as it passed the finish line, reached its peak, and realized there was nothing to keep stressing about anymore. 

Like this, it’s easy to forget the haunting reminder of how he’ll never fit in with Phil, Pj, and Chris, easy to imagine a world where they could all be friends (so long as he could get past how annoying they could be at times). Normally, he’d love staring at it, taking it in and remembering what it was like to stand before it as flames engulfed the old wooden swing, but now, with the recent events at Phil’s house still fresh in his mind, it only serves to reinforce the fact that he’s an outcast who doesn’t belong and shouldn’t try to be anything but who he already is. 

But most importantly, it’s easy to clear his mind and focus at the real task at hand. He’s allowed his two lives to dance together and become one, but unless he wants to be found out and forever labeled as an arsonist, he has to do something about it before it’s too late. After all, now that he’s hanging out with Phil, the son of a police officer who would love more than anything to solve the case, there’s no such thing as too careful. And he’s not going to let himself learn that the hard way. Not unless he wants to watch his world crumble before him. 

He almost wishes that Phil would come by now and be reminded about how destructive he is because then he would have one less thing to stress about. Mainly, however, he wouldn’t have to worry about Phil somehow finding out about him and telling his dad all about what Dan does in his free time. Except he knows that’s not how Phil is and even he wouldn’t suddenly stop being friends with Dan simply because he smokes. It would just be easier if he was. 

Except wishing will get him nowhere. It will only get his hopes up, and he’s tired of letting that happen again and again. 

He drops the cigarette and steps on it to put it out just like he crushes his thoughts, no longer allowing them to exist for just right now. He can think about them later when he’s supposed to be asleep but can’t figure out how to get his mind to shut up, but right now, he’s supposed to be calm and those are the type of thoughts that are quickly going to turn his mood sour. 

Except, as soon as he starts the walk back to his house, the calm quickly starts to fade away with each step he takes, and his nerves build up until he’s a mess of worry and confusion, unsure of his next move as he struggles to keep himself happy and everybody around him--namely Louise and his parents--happy on top of that. Which may seem like an easy task, but when they all have different things that will make them smile, it can only get harder, and that’s what it’s like. He’s being pulled apart by the seam as each person pulls at him, demanding something completely different that he can’t do in order to please another, and it’s getting to the point where he’s starting to forget his own needs, the fire burning inside of him that thrives off of causing destruction and burning down places seconds away from collapsing on their own. 

He wants to turn around, pull another cigarette out of his pocket, but he doesn’t have another one and he has some boundaries, meaning that he only smokes one a day if he can help it. Which means that he keeps on walking even if he just wants to give up. 

* * *

 

His mom is on the couch when he gets home. He wants to go up to her and say something, anything, but no words come to mind, and the longer he thinks, the more it feels like he can’t speak, like the words that he wants to say are getting stuck in his throat. Even though he stands there for a few seconds like a blubbering fish, staring at his mother, hoping she’ll say something instead, there’s dead silence except for the sound of whatever shows on the television. Eventually, he just leaves, climbing up the stairs one at a time, all while wishing he could have been a better son.

But before he goes, he whispers, “I love you,” and hopes that she heard him despite how softly he spoke it. When she doesn’t respond, well he doesn’t hear her anyway, he continue on with a heavy heart. 

Maybe tomorrow, he’ll be able to make good on his promise to himself that he’ll try harder, but right now, he just doesn’t know what to say. Sure, their relationship isn’t as bad as it was only a few days before, but it’s still not where he wants it to be and he’s not sure how to get it there. 

Right now, however, he’s drained--mentally and emotionally--and he reeks of smoke, something that he know won’t help anything, so it’s probably for the best that he leaves it be right now. Plus, he has other things on his mind, not that they’re more important than building a better relationship with his parents, but if he doesn’t deal with him, he feels like he will explode. 

In fact, even though the walk back to his room is short, his mind is going a mile a minute, thoughts swirling around in his brain too quickly for him to properly understand them. First off, he hasn’t been able to watch flames dance in the wind and devour something in so long, and for some reason, he feels like he needs to be less of an asshole now that he’s friends with Phil, so that’s only adding to the stress. There’s so many things going on that he can’t tell if he’s missing something or not. 

For a second, he almost forgets about Louise and the text that he still hasn’t read, but when he shuts his door and collapses on his bed, all of his issues just come back, full-force and more pressing than ever. There’s a weight on his chest that he can do nothing to get rid of, but he knows that sorting everything out with Louise will take the tiniest amount of pressure off of him, which he figures is better than nothing. He’d almost prefer getting to work on planning his next fire as he can tell that cigarettes aren’t going to work for much longer, but he also knows he’s just going to feel worse the longer he puts it off. 

He reaches into his pocket hesitantly and wraps his fingers around his phone, leaving them there for a few seconds while he takes a few deep, calming breaths before pulling it out. 

_ Louise: I’m glad you realized that I’m only doing this for you and I deeply care about you. And didn’t I say you and Phil would make good friends? We should hang out sometime soon; it feels weird not having you to talk to.  _

For a few seconds, the anger bubbles up, heated by the fact that she didn’t apologize, not realizing that Dan’s text was an invitation for her to do so. If he can apologize, then why can’t she? He wasn’t the only one in the wrong and he never has been. He puts up with Louise and her bossy ways, knowing full well why she’s like that and how sometimes she gets so annoyed that Dan takes his parents for granted when her’s are rarely there for her, but he doesn’t have to do that. Yet, when he doesn’t, she acts like she’s the innocent one, even if she’s not. 

Except, this is the closest she’s ever come to apologizing, and he knows how hard it can be to admit that you’re wrong, especially when it’s something that you’ve never had to do before. In fact, every other time he’s apologized to her, she’s practically told him that he should be, brushing it off like the idea of her doing the same was absurd. So maybe this is her way of saying sorry because she can’t outright say it. Dan’s tired of making excuses for her, but this time, he can’t help it. 

That doesn’t mean he has to forgive her. He’s already apologized and she practically has to, but there’s more to forgiveness than that, something that can’t be achieved so easily. He doesn’t have to excuse her just yet, but he can at least prepare to. 

With that in mind, he knows what he has to do. 

_ Dan: Yeah, we should hang out tomorrow and sort through some things. Just you and me. Like we used to. _

_ Louise: Just tell me when and where.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I got the idea for nof almost a year ago when I was supposed to be sleeping and before I had even considered writing phanfiction and I was like someone should really write a fic where Dan is an arsonist/pyromaniac in high school and Phil's a new student whose dad is a cop trying to find the one responsible for all of the fires and they could call it not on fire (because I'm so punny). At the time I didn't think I was ever going to write it, so I considered sending it in as a prompt on phanfic but within a short period of time I became way too attached to the idea and ended up writing it myself. Like I wonder how much different my life would be if I didn't write it. It was literally the first phanfiction I started writing. I mean I deleted the original one because I felt like I didn't do the story justice but still. I can't help but think that if it wasn't for nof I wouldn't have written phanfiction at all and just wow. I don't know why I'm thinking about this now but yeah.
> 
> Also I'm aware that this chapter is mainly just Dan's thoughts and not much else, but I kind of just really wanted to show his internal struggle, but don't worry, because the next chapter will be a little more exciting. And yeah it's still pretty short, just barely above 2,000 words, but I just felt like it was the perfect length for this chapter. I don't know. Sometimes I like writing shorter chapters; other times I prefer writing longer chapters. 
> 
> Oh, I can't remember if I've said this before or not, but please do not beg for an update. I have three chaptered stories I'm working on (Nof, PPDD, and You) and a few one-shots as well. I have an updating schedule in my bio, and as it says there, I update this every few weeks. Sometimes it takes me a month. I go to school. I play golf. I hang out with friends. I'm sorry if writing isn't always my number one priority, but I do have a life (one that's especially busy right now because of my grandparents' health issues). However, I can almost guarantee you that if you ask me to update, I will literally do everything but work on the next update for the rest of the day. 
> 
> (Also did anybody catch the MCR reference?)
> 
> (Why are my author's notes so long nowadays?)


	18. floral and fading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this even though I finished it forever ago. If you want updates that actually come on time, check out my wattpad @ctrling. I'm actually not sure if I'll continue to post on here or not, so if updates just randomly stop, you can always go there to read it.

Dan’s always liked to think of himself as someone who is indifferent to it all, isolated, and without a care in the world. Except he knows that isn’t the case. At least not when it comes to a few people: Louise and his parents (and well, possibly Phil but he really doesn’t want to think about that right now). But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t wish he could be indifferent, isolated, and without a care when it comes to them sometimes. Take right now, for example: in a few minutes, Louise is going to come over and he’s going to have to listen to her act like she’s never done anything wrong and it’s all Dan’s fault, which he can handle most of the time--and he does--but he knows he shouldn’t have to. Which only makes it more complicated because even though he knows it, whenever he hangs out with her or talks to her, he caves for some unknown reason and forgets it all. It’s not like she’s his only friend anymore, hasn’t been for a lot longer than he’s been willing to admit. 

Of course, making up with her will have it’s benefits. She’s been his voice of reason--his conscience, if you will--for so long, and while he doesn’t always listen to her (okay, he rarely does these days) it’s nice to have someone there for him who will explain right from wrong, a concept he gets but easily forgets about. 

However, if he makes up with her, she’ll just be as pushy as ever, never listening to what he has to say, always insisting she knows best. He’s put up with that for too long and he’s tired of it. That’s what got them in this mess in the first place, but if he just says sorry without waiting for her to say it, it’s all going to be a waste. 

He’s sitting on the couch in the living room. His parent’s are out shopping. He had begged to go with, something that had caught them off guard for approximately two seconds before they remembered that Louise was supposed to come over so they could “talk things out.” It’s times like these that he wishes he hadn’t tried to rebuild their relationship. Before, he wouldn’t have told them about his problems with Louise and he wouldn’t have mentioned her coming over, no matter what the occasion. 

The sound of knocking cuts through the silence and his thoughts. He gets up, but hesitates right before he reaches the door, his hand outstretched and ready to grab the knob and twist. It would be so much easier if he just pushed this off or just forgot about it forever, but he’s smart enough to know that, in the end, it wouldn’t make him happy. Louise has been his friend for so long, and if he’s willing to change, then he’s sure she will be, too.

With that in mind, he opens the door, putting on a small--hopefully welcoming--smile, somewhat wishing that it had the power to cut the tension that formed immediately after he opened the door. 

He’s never been that good at talking to people, a product of him insisting that he interact with as few people as possible, but it’s never been that bad with Louise before. In fact, he’s not sure if there ever was a moment like this, even when they were first just becoming friends because of Louise’s welcoming disposition. 

“Hi,” he says, moving over to let her in. He closes the door behind her and watches for a second as she kicks off her shoes. Neither of them talk for a second, leaving the awkwardness in the room to reach new heights. 

“I’m really glad you decided to give Phil a chance. I knew you’d come around,” Louise says, turning to flash a large smile at Dan before walking into the living room and taking a seat. “And I knew you would see that everything I do is for the best.”

Immediately, he feels like saying something, or rather, yelling something, but if there’s ever been a time to practice self control, it’s now. 

“Yeah . . . about that,” he mumbles, taking a seat next to her. “Look, I’m glad that you pushed me to give Phil a chance--and then another and another and another. It’s just, you aren’t my mother and you don’t get to boss me around. Fucking hell, my own mother doesn’t even do that. The point is, I meant it when I blew up at you for always insisting that you know what’s best for me. It’s my own life and I should be able to live it how I want to. You’re always asking me to change, and right now, I’m asking for you to do the same.” 

Louise shakes her head for a second, something Dan notices from out of the corner of his eye. They aren’t facing each other. Instead, they’re facing the television, which is off. 

“I only ask you to change because you didn’t realize that you’ve gone way too far, and I don’t understand why you’re mad at me when I was right about Phil--you guys make great friends.”

This is what he had been afraid of. Once again, to her, she’s not in the wrong; Dan is. God forbid she ever do something that goes “way too far.” Why is it that she can so easily see all of Dan’s faults, yet be so blind to hers at the same time? She’s like a parent in that aspect--always quick to get on the kid for doing something they shouldn’t and then turn around and do something they shouldn’t. 

Knowing that what will happen if he doesn’t, he takes a few deep breaths before responding to her. “I’m asking you to change because you’ve gone way too fucking far. This has nothing to do with how many times you’ve been right. I always listen to what you have to say, why can’t you do the same for me?”

“Oh, you hardly listen at first. Don’t act like you don’t like to start fights sometimes before finally agreeing with me,” she rebuts. 

“It doesn’t matter. I always listen to you, regardless if I do it at first or not. And I’m just asking you to do the same thing and you’re not even listening to the question.” 

Louise huffs and for a second, there’s silence.

Dan’s mind is racing a little too much for him to focus on one single thought, but he does know one thing: he’s already said sorry and he isn’t going to say it again unless she says it first.

“Fine. What do you have to say?”

For a second, it feels like a trap, like he’ll start talking only to be drowned out by her screaming as she storms out and insists that she’s done with him. He’s not convinced that it’s not, but he can’t just turn down potentially the only opportunity he’s going to get to say how he feels. 

However, now that he has the chance, the words are lost in his throat. He hadn’t really planned ahead this far, assuming it would take a lot more fighting before she even considered letting him speak, so what he would say when it finally happened was not his top priority. 

He can tell she’s getting impatient the more time he wastes trying to string together a sentence, but he chooses to ignore it, looking anywhere and everywhere except at her. His eyes latch onto the bookshelf, which just happens to be covered in photos, a few of which are Dan and Louise. Of course that has to be the one thing that catches his attention. The closest photo of them just happens to be from the summer, when Louise had come along to Adventureland. In it, Louise has her arm around Dan’s shoulders, a bright smile on her face, while Dan’s frowning--annoyed by the hot sun and all of the people running around, screaming and just generally be loud. But he still had a great time, even with his parents trying to be cool, because Louise was there, too keep him from actually yelling at everyone who dared pass by him. 

“I don’t want you think I don’t love you, because I do. You’re my best friend, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. But that doesn’t mean that you can push me around and expect me to just live with it. I want to be your friend, but I don’t want to be your kid. You aren’t my mother, and you shouldn’t act like it. Typically, I come around eventually because you do have a good point, but it’s my life and I need to be able to live it like how I want to and if that means I make mistakes along the way, so be it,” Dan says, the words rushing out of his mouth so fast he’s worried he’s going to have to repeat himself. “Do you understand?”

“Do you understand that I’m just trying to help you?”

“I do and that’s why I’m telling you I’m not your kid. It’s okay if you want to give me your advice or opinion every once in awhile, but you shouldn’t force me to do what you believe I should,” he answers, turning to look at her for the first time they sat down. She has tears in her eyes, and Dan’s never seen her cry before. Just looking at her, he starts to tear up, too. It almost feels like one of those goodbye talks, or maybe one of those break up speeches, where the couple has no other choice because one’s going off to war. 

It would be easier if it was one of those, but it’s not. They aren’t saying goodbye for a while because one of them is moving away, and they aren’t breaking up--they’ve never been together. This is the middle of it all, not the end, and they’re going to work through this if it’s the last thing they do. At least, that’s what Dan would like to think. 

“I didn’t even realize. I’ve just always wanted someone to look after me that I never even realized I had crossed a line, and I’m sorry. But you can’t just expect me to change like that.”

“And I don’t. Even though you always expected me to change right after you said something, I won’t do the same thing to you”--it’s rude, Dan knows, and they’re working through their issues, so he really shouldn’t be mean, but he can’t help but throw one last punch--”as long as you promise to try to stop being so demanding. It might take a while but trying is what counts. But just like you made sure I really was giving Phil a chance, I’m going to make sure you’re actually really trying.” 

“I think I can live with that,” Louise says, smiling through her tears, and opening her arms wide open for a hug. Dan leans in and wraps his arms around her. 

He’s never been one for physical contact, but just this once, it feels nice to be held as the last few tears fall from his eyes. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 


	19. a new perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again I forgot to post this here at the same time I posted it on wattpad.

Dan hasn’t been late to school in a while, so he decides to sleep in today for a few extra minutes--which naturally turns into him waking up with ten minutes to get up, get dressed, and get to school. Something that isn’t going to happen anytime soon. He’s almost surprised that his mom didn’t barge in earlier, demanding that his ass get up in much nicer terms, but that must be one of the perks of having her trust back because she doesn’t come in until he’s been in bed for five minutes, completely awake and just struggling to find the motivation to get up.

There’s a knock on the door that shakes him out of his thoughts before his mom comes in, without waiting for a reply in a typical mom fashion. 

“If you don’t get up in five seconds, I’m coming up here with a bucket of cold water,” she threatens, staring at him with a face that says she’s serious. Of course, this is a threat she’s used multiple times before and never once has he actually had her follow through. Then again, he’s always gotten up before the time was over.

“Like you could carry a bucket filled with water,” he says while climbing out of bed and stretching. “Why didn’t you come in to wake me up earlier?”   
“Because you’re going to be eighteen before you know it and I thought it was time I started treating you like an adult. Or do you want to have to tell all of your friends that you can’t go to college in the fall because your mom still has to wake you up?”

“By friends do you mean Louise and Phil because I honestly don’t think they’d really care either way.” 

“Just get dressed,” she says, leaving and closing the door behind her. He swears he hears her say, “He’s hopeless,” as she walks further and further away. 

Normally, he wouldn’t be in such a rush, but he’s not the only one who has somewhere to be. His mom probably doesn’t want to waste her whole morning trying to get him to go to school when she has a job of her own to get to among other stuff she has to do around the house. And he is trying to be more thoughtful after all. Which has him getting ready as quick as he can--allowing himself only five minutes before he’s out the door. He’ll still be late, but not as late as he would have originally been. 

He slips on his shoes and practically runs out the door, relieved to find his mom in her car with the engine already started.

He gets in and shuts the door, putting on his seatbelt.

“So now that you’re trusting me and everything, does that mean you’ll get me a car so I can take myself to school?” he asks hopefully, locking eyes with her in the rearview mirror. 

“Stop trying to spoil your graduation present and shut up,” his mom says, sounding somewhat joking, but--wishful thinking and such--he hopes that it’s in a playful oops-I’ve-just-revealed-a-big-secret kind of way. If that’s even a thing. 

The ride to school is quiet, but not in a bad way. There’s no tension in the air, and it doesn’t seem like his mom’s really all that mad at him for waking up so late. She did tease him, which is a good sign. Everything seems to be going right--perfect, even. Too perfect. 

It’s at this point that he starts to wonder when the storms going to come. But he really needs to stop thinking like that if he wants to still be sane by the time he graduates high school. Well, that’s assuming he’s sane right now which is highly debatable, but he digresses. 

He tells his mom that he loves her before getting out of the car and hears her respond as he shuts the door. 

Carol looks at him with wide eyes when he walks into the office, ten minutes late for school and smiling like it’s anything but what it is. 

“Did you miss me that much that you had to go and be late again?” she asks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “And here I was, thinking that you had forgotten about me.”

“I could never forget about you,” he says, laughing. 

“Just take your pass and get to class.” And he does without lingering like he would have. He’s surprised himself. 

He takes a seat next to Phil silently after handing in his pass to the teacher--which shockingly had his tardy marked off as an excuse, probably some sort of gift from the secretary for going so long without having to need a pass in the first place. 

“Where were you?” Phil whispers.

“Slept in a bit late.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but Car--the secretary was nice enough to mark me as excused anyway,” Dan says, trying to keep his eyes on the board, where the teacher is writing down the assignment for the day. 

They’re cut off by Mrs. Kintigh clearing her throat and turning to face the class. “We’re going to be starting our final novel for the class, but before we do, I want you to fill out a pre-quiz to see what you already know about it. You may work with one person, but only if you keep your voices down. Once all the quizzes are in, I’ll explain more about the book we’re going to read.” As she talks, she begins walking around the room, passing out the supposed quizzes which look to be at least two pages in length.

When she finally places it on Dan’s desk, his suspicions are confirmed. 

“So much for a pre quiz. This is three pages,” Dan says once Mrs. Kintigh has passed so she won’t hear. “No wonder why she’s letting us work with partners or we’d never finish it in time.” 

“It’s a pre quiz. It’s not like you have to actually think about your answers.”

“What have you done with the Phil I know, because I’m pretty sure he cares too much about school to say fuck it on a quiz and just circle random letters.”

“What can I say. You’re a bad influence.” Dan shoves him lightly at that, but smiles nonetheless. It’s kind of hard not to when Phil’s so happy all the time. It used to annoy Dan--probably still will at times--but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t grown on him. Dan might be a bad influence for Phil, but Phil’s a great influence for Dan and he probably doesn’t even realize it. 

“Let’s just finish this before Kintigh gets mad.”

They actually do try at first, reading each of the questions carefully and thinking over their answer, but not even halfway through, it occurs to them that Phil was right--this really is just a pre quiz after all--so they circle randomly. Which allows them to finish something that could have taken an hour in a few minutes. 

It’s easy working with Phil. He makes it fun even when it is a quiz or a test or whatever you want to call it. There’s just something about him that makes Dan feel a little lighter. Is this what having a best friend feels like? Dan’s always considered Louise a best friend, but lately, he’s realized that they never really acted like friends or even talked like friends, so he wouldn’t know. It’s all so new that he almost wants to freak out--do what he does best and go smoke a cigarette or light a fire--but one look at Phil and he knows he needs to calm down for now. 

“You do know I was just kidding when I said you were a bad influence, right?” Phil says, breaking the silence that had formed for a short time after they finished. “I’m really glad you’re my friend.” 

Dan’s never been good at handling serious situations, and he doesn’t think Phil’s going to be able to change that part of him any time soon. So he panics when Phil says that he’s glad they’re friends, struggling to think of a response that won’t sound cheesy or mushy or lovey or any of that crap that he avoids like the plague most days. 

Dan shakes his head slightly. “I thought you didn’t like cheese.” 

“Shut up!” This time it’s Phil who shoves Dan. “I just--I know you don’t really befriend many people, and I’m glad you gave me a chance.”

“It was Louise who forced me to do it in the first place, so you should be thanking her.”

“Hasn’t your mom or dad told you that no one can force you to do anything unless they’re holding a gun to your head?”

“Who’s to say Louise didn’t hold a gun to my head?”

“We should probably turn this in,” Phil says, motioning to the quiz, a silly smile on his face. One that doesn’t look as ridiculous on him as it would on Dan. 

“You’re probably right.” 

* * *

 

The rest of the day before lunch flies by in a blur, and before he knows it, Dan’s sitting down at a table with Louise and Phil--no PJ or Chris because they’re working on PJ’s newest short film that he still won’t tell anybody what it’s about. 

“So I see you too are very close now,” Louise says, all smiles like she’s proud of her handy work. Then the smile drops off her face, as if she’s realized how pushy that can seem. “I don’t know what I’ll do now that I’m not the only friend in Dan’s life.”

“Oh, shut up!” Dan says, throwing a fry at her. “You’ve been dying to get rid of me for ages now. Haven’t you?”

“You caught me. I know it wasn’t fair using Phil like that, but you’re just too much to handle.”

He knows it’s a joke--knows it like he knows the back of his hand, but that still doesn’t stop the thoughts. Even though it definitely doesn’t seem like it (and Dan’s worked hard to make it that way) he doesn’t want to be alone. He was content with one friend because one friend still meant that he wouldn’t have to be lonely. And he knows how much work he can be. Louise has made that very clear in the past without saying it. What if she did want to get rid of him? Not completely, but get rid of him in the sense that she won’t have to deal with him as much because he has somebody else to bother. 

Thinking like this is destructive, but then again, everything about Dan is destructive it seems. 

It’s been a little too long, and Louise is starting to look at him weirdly. He can’t even bring himself to look at Phil in the fear that he will be, too. 

“Touche,” he responds, saying the first thing that came to mind. He has to stop himself from shaking his head in order to get rid of the thoughts, which leads to him tapping his fingers on the table to focus his mind elsewhere. “And here I was thinking that I was the one getting rid of you. Sorry, Phil, but it looks like we both used you after all.” 

“Well, you kind of did,” Phil says, surprising Dan. It wasn’t that he didn’t expect him to respond. He did. It’s just that he doesn’t sound playful. Instead, he sounds oddly serious. 

“What do you mean?” Louise asks, looking at him with eyes wide in confusion. Phil must have never told her that he knew what she was up to. 

“You used me to make it so Dan would have a friend, and Dan used me to please you. I know you guys didn’t mean it, but it doesn’t feel all that great, you know? And I kept thinking that she’s going to say sorry. I’ve already talked to Dan about this, but I hoped that I wouldn’t have to talk to you, too.” 

“I didn’t even realize. I’m so sorry,” Louise says and something about her voice just sounds sincere. “I was so busy looking out for Dan that I didn’t even look out for you.” 

“It’s okay. I forgave you forever ago.” Phil smiles--well, that’s nothing new. He’s always smiling, but this time, it’s with teeth showing and it just feels so much more alive because of it. 

The rest of lunch is much more lighthearted, with them quickly moving past the short serious moment. And for once, Dan feels like there is more to high school than just waiting for it to be over. 

But that doesn’t make it any less suffocating. The one thing that’s able to fully distract him from everything going on in his life and clear him of his stress he can’t do because it’s too risky--with Phil’s dad being a cop and really wanting to crack down on who the arsonist is. Life was so much easier before Phil came into his life, but he’s not sure if he would go back anyway. 


	20. trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually posting this on time!!

Phil’s not at school today. He’s probably sick or something, but it still comes as a shock when he walks into first block, expecting to find Phil in his seat, prepared and ready for the day ahead, only to see an empty seat in his place. How he survives English is beyond him. Honestly. He did perfectly fine before he knew Phil, but once you have a friend in a class, it’s kind of hard to switch back to not having one. Louise is in there, of course, but it’s not the same. They’re still walking on thin ice--just slightly thicker than before--as they readjust to each other and try not to overstep boundaries. 

Maybe they’ll never truly go back to the way they were before, but they’re trying. Not necessarily as much as they could, but it’s a step in the right direction. Anything is better than what they were like before. And he doesn’t even know what’s worth fighting for anymore or if Louise can really change in the end. There’s no way he’s putting all his efforts into it only to have Louise back out at the last second, claiming she can’t change or whatever. This has to be important to her--he has to be important to her. That's the only way a friendship will work.

He’s fully prepared to awkwardly spend the lunch with Louise, as they try to fill in the silence with short words and phrases that do little to help. Last time he checked (not that he’s been paying a lot of attention, honestly) PJ and Chris were still working on the short film, which he still doesn’t know what it’s about, but it’s not that big of a deal. He makes them all the time, apparently, from short little one minute ones to twenty minutes or so, but he doesn’t show them anywhere--not yet anyway. From what Dan’s gathered through their limited interactions, he’s practicing for a short film festival that’s coming up during the summer, which is why he’s making so many. Not that PJ and Chris would really help the situation. He barely knows them after all, apart from a few random facts here and there. Except they’re his best bet at breaking the tension and just talking, even if Dan and Louise aren’t. 

He’s not even sure anymore. 

When he sits down at the table, he’s pleasantly--or as close to that as he can be--when he sees that PJ and Chris are, in fact, joining them for lunch. They’re already talking amongst themselves, something about the film, that much he gathers. Louise is completely out of her element, being unable to join in considering she knows nothing about it. She stares right at Dan when he sits down, no smile on her face. The constant noise helps him feel a little bit more at ease, but even as he goes to take a bite of his sandwich, he can’t help but feel like she’s still staring at him. When he looks up, his suspicions are confirmed. 

“Hi,” he says, realizing that he had forgotten to when he first arrived. Probably because he was too distracted by the scene in front of him to realize that it wasn’t just something he was watching on television, that he was actually apart of it. 

This break PJ and Chris out of whatever trance they were in that made it seem like Dan and Louise weren’t there. 

“Oh, hi! I didn’t even notice you were there,” PJ says, as if it wasn’t obvious when they both jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“That’s because he was too busy admiring how beautiful I am,” Chris chimes in. Which is nothing surprising considering within a few minutes of first meeting him, Dan could already tell he was that kind of a person--the one who cracks jokes in any form, ranging from mild to full on sexual. 

“I’m sorry about him. Honestly don’t know how I’ve been able to last so long, putting up with him and all.” 

“I had to put up with Dan when he went through his emo phase. Trust me. You have it easy,” Louise says, finally lending her voice to the conversation. She sends one look at Dan, as if to reassure him that she’s just messing around, before looking at the other two. 

“I thought we agreed to never talk about that again!” 

“Well, I wasn’t going to bring up that one time you wore black eyeliner all around your eyes thicker than both of my thighs, but if you insist.”

He huffs and crosses his arms, pretending to be annoyed, looking anywhere and everywhere but her. He’s been sitting in his same exact cafeteria since freshmen year, but it’s crazy how much he’s failed to notice in all that time, having been too wrapped up in his own little world, thinking he was better than everyone and everything around him. He let the world go by in a blur. 

The ceiling is covered in stains, some light and barely noticeable, others dark and very obnoxious. There’s a pencil overhead, and a few tiles to the left of that, there’s one missing, where you can see the blackness of the inside. It’s nothing interesting, but these are things he’s never noticed. Maybe they weren’t all there before, but that’s no excuse for him taking forever to take a proper look. 

It reminds him that sometimes it’s okay to take the backseat and just enjoy the view. 

“It was one fucking time!”

“You didn’t!” PJ exclaims, holding back a laugh. 

“He did!” Louise responds, sounding equally as exciting. 

Dan knows she doesn’t mean to. At least he’s pretty damn sure that’s the case, but she’s found a way to exclude him from the conversation. It’s kind of hard to participate when they’re all talking about him as if he’s not right there. Like it’s gossip--the kind where they laugh about him behind his back but smile to his face as if nothing ever happened. 

“He also used to wear band bracelets up to his elbows and the tightest black skinny jeans you’ve ever seen. Not to mention like 90 percent of his shirts were band tees.”

“Please tell me he didn’t try to dye his hair black,” Chris says. 

Everybody is laughing but Dan.

“Oh, he did! His mom about killed him because he didn’t ask permission. Luckily he did a really shit job and it lasted for the weekend only. Used to hang out with all the emo kids and everything. It was a really dark time in his life.”

“What about that time you went through a preppy phase and thought you were so cool and would dress like a stereotypical popular kid in the movies,” Dan reminds her, finally able to turn the conversation away from him. “I literally refused to hang out with you for a week.” 

“Oh my god!” 

“That’s too good!” 

He’s barely paying attention to who is talking. Most of it is drowned out by the hysterical laughing that he can’t bring himself to participate in. He can laugh a little, but it’s forced. This conversation--while better than what he had prepared for--is still uncomfortable, just in a different way. Then again, this is probably, in part, caused by the fact that he isn’t friends with them, hardly is friends with Louise right now, and has never been particularly comfortable with most people. That’s why he’s always avoided them. 

But ever since Phil’s come into his life, things have changed. He’s changed, and no one’s ever been able to do that to him before. Louise has tried plenty hard, but she treated a mountain as a rock. Only natural forces could move him. Phil didn’t have to do anything; he just came in with that smile and turned his whole life upside down without even knowing. For this reason, things are different when Phil’s by his side. Now that he’s realized, he’s not even sure why, but he is sure that asking questions isn’t going to help him now. 

“Honestly I feel like I’ve truly missed out.” PJ wipes under his eyes where the few tears caused by laughing too hard are. “I would have loved to see that.” 

“Hasn’t your mom told you that you should focus more on being a teenager and making friends than making short movies that nobody sees anyway?” Chris asks. He shakes his head in mock disapproval, like he actually cares. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t love being in my movies. You’re the one who wants to be an actor.” 

“Your career depends on me.”

“If he ever wants to replace you, there’s always me,” Dan says, winking. He’s never been one to wink, but he can’t help it. It just happens and he just hopes that it doesn’t come off as awkward, which is exactly how he feels. 

“Please. You can’t act to save your life. Remember that one time I wanted to audition for the school play and I had you help me out and you just read the lines in the most monotone voice ever.” Louise shakes her head. “I couldn’t even focus on actually practicing you were so bad.” 

The only good thing about suddenly reminiscing on the past, apart from remembering things he had long since forgotten, is that it reminds him of how they used to be. Louise wasn’t always so demanding, probably because Dan wasn’t always so difficult. They used to be carefree like everyone else their age, and then growing up happened and Dan started feeling like he was the best and Louise started feeling like Dan was her responsibility, not her friend. 

“Which reminds me. I can’t hang out with you tonight because we’re going to a housewarming party, and I’m being forced to go.” 

They had planned to go over to Dan’s house--they never hang out at Louise’s for various reasons--as a part of trying to rekindle their old flame. Which makes it sound like they used to date, but that’s not the point. They love each other (in a totally platonic sense) and they just want those feelings to surface some more. 

“That’s okay. We can always do it tomorrow night or whenever we’re both free,” he says (like he’s usually busy when he’s literally always free, except for when he’s got a lighter in hand and a destination in mind). He’s not exactly sure that he’s really feeling up to hanging out with someone tonight. While setting a full on fire might be a little risky right now, he still has the bear in his closet among many other things that he can burn to help soothe him. 

“Hey, if you want, you can come over to my house after school. Chris and I were planning on hanging out anyway, and you’re more than welcome to tag along,” PJ offers, looking at Dan expectantly. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course.” 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to go. Well, that’s not the full reason he’s so hesitant anyway. It’s just that he’s never been good with social interaction and the last time he went over, it all became too much too quickly. He hasn’t been able to release all the pent up tension for so long that he’s almost worried he’ll blow if he does. Smoking and burning small things can only get him so far before he needs the real thing--a fire so large that it consumes everything in its path and leaves ashes in its wake. 

Before he can even finish thinking things through, he feels a vibration in his paths, alerting him that he’s got a text message. He pulls it out and looks at it, torn between between surprised and not being surprised who it’s from. 

_ Louise: I swear to god if you don’t say yes. _

__ _ Louise: This would be a really great chance for you to make some more friends. You know it would make your parents happy.  _

He rolls his eyes. She’s trying, but it’s still going to take some time.

__ _ Dan: Remember how you promised you wouldn’t force me to do things anymore? Because, oddly enough, that feels a lot like forcing to me.  _

It feels awkward texting her when 1) she’s right across from him and 2) PJ is still waiting for him to respond. 

But Louise does have a point. It would make his parents happy, and befriending Phil turned out to be a really great idea. It’s not like trying would hurt him--permanently or physically that is. Mentally is a different story, but even then, it would only be temporary. 

_ Louise: I’m so sorry! I’m trying but it’s still new to me.  _

__ _ Louise: But all I’m going to say is, it doesn’t hurt to consider it.  _

With that in mind, he puts away his phone and turns to PJ. “Sure. That sounds great.” 

“Awesome. We can meet up at my locker after school and I can drive.”

“Perfect.”

* * *

 

So maybe agreeing to hang out with them wasn’t the best idea. He’s only ever hung out with them when Phil was around, too, but obviously, he won’t be there if he’s home sick. The reality of the situation only struck him once he messaged his mom telling her that he doesn’t need a ride home from school and that he’ll be home late. Because of course she asked if he was going to be hanging out with Phil. Not that hanging out then was easy for him, but he’s sure that today will be worse. 

PJ and Chris are great guys from what he’s seen, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be able to handle them. Living in his head has always been easier for him, which is why he chose it over actual social interaction so many times. He doesn’t know how to handle himself around people who aren’t his parents, Louise, and now Phil. 

But it almost feels too late to back out now. The logical part of his brain knows better than that, knows that he can say he doesn’t feel good and just go home, but it feels like now that he’s agreed, he’s required to follow through no matter what. 

Plus maybe he’s realizing that friends can be a good thing after all. 

* * *

 

After school, they all meet up at PJ’s locker, which is conveniently right next to the closest exit to where he parks his car, a slightly beat up chevy malibu. The ride is quiet for the most part. Chris is sitting in the front, Dan in the middle of the backseat--he feels weird sitting on a side when it’s only him, like he’s actually picking a side, so he always tries to sit in the middle. He read a book one time--yes, he actually does read on occasion--where one of the characters did that, and he hasn’t gotten it out of his mind ever since. 

PJ’s house is close to the school, so it doesn’t take that long before they’re pulling into the driveway and getting out of the car. His house isn’t anything too big or anything, just a two storey brick house. Dan tries to pay more attention to it than he normally would. There’s a nicely tended to garden in front of the house, on both sides, separated by a sidewalk leading up to the house. The wooden door is slightly ajar, with the screen door fully closed to keep out any bugs. 

The inside is nicely decorated, with a white leather couch and a metal coffee table with glass on top. There’s also a reclining chair, this one dark brown in color and leather, off to the side, and a table directly in front of them. Instead of a bookshelf, there’s a self dedicated to films and filming equipment--presumably belonging to PJ. It’s nice, and he’s never realized how much volume a living room can actually speak. 

He and Chris sit down on the couch while PJ turns on the gaming system and puts in the game--which just happens to be Guild Wars 2, Dan’s favorite video game.  He gives both of them a controller and then it’s game on. 

There’s a reason this game is his favorite. He’s easily the best out of all three of them, and it shows. All though it might not seem like it, Dan does play video games in his free time--when he’s not hanging out with Louise or Phil, trying to rebuild his relationship with his parents, or burning things and setting fires. Over the years, he’s become really good at them, too, and if he’s good at them and they’re fun, then he’s all for it. 

They play a few rounds on different levels, but after a while, they all get tired of it (and PJ and Chris probably feel a little inferior). Not that Dan’s bragging or anything. 

Video games Dan can handle. It’s the rest that he’s worried about. When they were playing, all he had to do was focus on the game--not on trying to keep a conversation going or anything like that. There’s nothing to get nervous about. He’s confident with his skills and that he won’t make them annoyed by not understanding the controls or the game in general. But social interaction . . . well, let’s just say that while he was busy fine-tuning his gaming skills, he let his social interaction ones completely disintegrate (much like his hopes of ever truly being happy here). 

“Honestly, I forgot how good you were at video games,” PJ says, huffing. 

“No wonder you don’t have many friends. You ruined what little confidence they did have.” Chris talks in almost a comical voice, one that makes it obvious he’s just acting and joking around if you’ve heard how he normally sounds.

“I have no friends because I literally spend all of my time playing video games.” This is, of course, a little white lie, but it’s better that they think he’s obsessed with video games than know that he’s an arsonist in his free time. One may make him sound like a loser (which, let's be honest, he is) and the other makes him sound like he should be locked up in an insane asylum. 

“You have friends. You have Louise and Phil and us,” PJ says. Obviously it wasn’t Chris because that’s a little bit too serious for him when it’s still light out (or maybe he’s never serious, but Dan finds that at night is when people become their most delirious and most thoughtful at the same time). 

“Yeah but I’m never going to be the person that has a lot of friends, so many that they’re constantly busy hanging out with them.” He shrugs. “Not that I care, but in comparison to those people, I might as well have no friends. I’m like a hermit.”

“Whenever I hear the word hermit, I think of that one Doctor Who line,” PJ responds, completely disregarding the majority of what Dan said at first. “But I understand. Sometimes I feel that way. Before Phil and you, it was really only Chris and me and sometimes people who I would get to act in my films from drama club. That’s it.”

“I told you I could play all the parts, but you insisted that we needed more.” Chris frowns as if to appear like he’s actually bothered by this. 

“We tried that once. Remember?” 

“Why do you make all of these films if you never let people see them anyway?” Dan asks. He saw the collection on the shelf. They all looked to be homemade at first glance. 

“I just like making them. I show my parents them sometimes, but I’ve never really had anyone to share them with. Most of them are stupid and aren’t that good. You have to start somewhere, right? The point of making them isn’t for other people; it’s just about doing something that I love and one day, I’d like to make short films professionally.” He says all of these words with so much conviction that it’s kind of hard not to get sucked into them. “But if you want, I can show you some of them.”

He’s doing it. Talking to someone who he still isn’t totally comfortable with without thinking about what he’s doing. Naturally, as soon as he thinks that, he realizes what he’s doing. His heart starts to race, and the world starts to close in on him. This is all too normal and not his normal, but someone else’s. It feels like he’s wearing someone else’s shirt that’s a little too tight on him and is super itchy and uncomfortable. 

Despite what PJ said earlier, he’s not quite sure that they are friends yet. They’ve hung out a couple of times, but Dan’s always kept more to himself (and closer to Phil). He never really saw a friendship forming between them. At least not until today that is. They’re not bad people. Chris can be a little much for some people. It feels like the stereotypical  _ it’s not you, it’s me _ speech, but that’s how Dan feels. The problem isn’t with their personalities or who they are in general, it’s with Dan, his personality and who he is over all. 

“Maybe we should wait to watch them with Phil. I’m sure he’d love to see them,” Dan says. It’s an easy way for him to postpone what could be the inevitable. He’s worried what might come out of watching the movies, if it’s supposed to make them form a closer bond or something that he’s not ready for yet. 

“You’re probably right.” 

They talk a little bit more, about nothing in particular, when suddenly the topic turns to something a little more serious, which is a hard thing to do with Chris is around. Some people hide behind a fake smile, but do little more to pretend; others put on a whole show out of it, refusing to be genuine and sincere for a second in case everything will come out. Then again, maybe Chris is just a class clown because he’s going to be a comedian later on. Who knows. But he’s digresses. 

“Can you believe graduation is only a few months away?” PJ asks, staring at seemingly nothing in particular. He looks like he’s lost in thought. Those words alone are enough to start the wheels turning in Dan’s mind.

The simple answer is that he cannot. It feels like just yesterday that he was getting ready for his first day of freshmen year. Everything has gone by in the blink of an eye; he was so busy trying to get to the finish line that he forgot it’s okay to slow down every once and awhile just to look around. But at the same time, all the memories are there. He remembers skinnies in ninth grade and feeling a little overwhelmed to switch over to blocks in tenth. He remembers all those night spent working on homework and studying to get good grades, and he’s about to move past this chapter in his life that has taken four years to complete. It’s crazy and he can hardly fathom it. 

And he tries his best to articulate this to them without being too confusing. 

“I just can’t believe I only have a few more months to organize the best senior prank ever,” Chris says. “I’d ask you guys for ideas, but no offense, I don’t think you could help out very much.” 

“Honestly though, you’re probably right,” PJ admits. “I’m creative, but not in that way.” 

“Yeah, I have nothing.” 

* * *

 

Dan leaves shortly after that. He’s a little jittery and noticeably so with the way his whole body shakes. He may have been able to ignore how awkward and unnerving the whole thing was some of the time, but now that he’s on his own, it comes at him with full force. How he had managed to survive the whole thing without making a fool out of himself is a miracle. Honestly. 

He’s feeling like he normally does when he reaches his breaking point, which is usually when he has to set something on fire to truly relax, but it’s light out and even if it wasn’t, Phil’s dad is a cop. He’s not exactly sure what makes this more risky than before considering he knew then that people were after the arsonist. Except it’s never felt so real before, and who knows what he might let slip if he does set one and Phil asks what he was doing that night. He could piece together the puzzle that no one else has been able to solve all by asking Dan a few simple questions. Dan’s always been calm when Louise asks him, but that’s different because he doesn’t have a reason to be nervous with her. She doesn’t have a parent in law enforcement. 

The second best thing is smoking a cigarette, and he’s actually about to do it when he remembers Louise. She had promised to try and better herself, and while Dan’s already been working towards that, he knows he’ll never truly be the best version of himself if he smokes. Then again, how can he truly be good when he’s the arsonist the city is so concerned about? That feels different, however, because he’s not ruining anything important--like his lungs. He burns down things that are two seconds away from collapsing on their own. Plus Louise doesn’t know about that, but she does know about his smoking. She’d probably feel a little better if he tried to stop like she’s trying to be less demanding. It’s the least he can do. 

He had awkwardly paused outside someone’s house, but with that in mind, he starts walking again, trying to not think so much to make the whole thing more bearable. It’s hard to shut down his mind when he’s used to thinking all the time, always running through situations in his head, but if he continues to let it run wild, he’s not going to be sane by the time he gets home. 

Eventually, he passes by the swing. It’s tempting to go by it. Staring at it, in the past, has helped him relax. He’s always enjoyed admiring his handiwork anyway, but right now, it’s just a reminder of what he can’t do. He’s still wearing someone else’s shirt, but right about now, it’s looking like he’s never going to get to take it off. 


	21. not on fire

Everybody has heard the stereotypical saying that everything goes by in the blink of an eye. To be honest, Dan never really believed that crap. It always felt like it was dragging on to him. Now however, it feels like his youth is slipping away as time slips through his fingers like a waterfall, pushing him towards inevitable death. The first three years seemed to drag on so slowly, but the same cannot be said about the final one. It feels like just yesterday that he was dreading going back to school after winter break and now February is over and March is slowly coming to an end, too. Before he knows it will be April. Like what the  _ fuck _ . He graduates at the end of May, for crying out loud. 

It’s the last day of school before spring break, which means that Dan gets to lounge around home for a whole week without having to worry about reading a book or writing a report. It also means that everything is moving too fast. Someone’s floored it--put their foot on the gas pedal and pressed down. There’s no breaking to stop and smell the roses. The course and speed have already been determined. That’s where the contradiction comes into play. Because the last day before any break whatsoever is always the slowest fucking day of them all. And god knows that the actual break is as fast as it gets. 

It’s still a little chilly out--and technically still winter for the next few days--but the wind has settled for the most part. Which means that they get to eat lunch outside if they want to. Well, the seniors, that is. There aren’t any tables or anything, just trees to sit under. Originally, nobody was let outside, but after so many started complaining, they started letting seniors out as long as there were teachers to watch over them. Not that rules stopped anybody before, but you had to be careful then or risk getting caught. (Of course, the only ones who really challenge it are the smokers, and Dan should know because he’s skipped lunch a few different times to smoke.)

In both of his morning classes, Dan has finals. Because spring break marks the end of third quarter, that means that classes--regardless of whether or not they’re over--have finals, as either a mid-class check in or a final understanding of what you’ve learned or haven’t learned. 

In English class, he has to write a paper, edit, and revise it all in one block. They had taken the multiple choice part the day before, so luckily he doesn’t have to worry about that on top of it all. For the paper, he has to compare three things they’ve read--poems, short stories, novels, anything--based on a certain theme or topic. Good thing that Dan’s good at bullshiting because that’s the only reason he’s able to finish it in time and still be able to skim over it. 

His next class is math. For that all he has to do is a performance task where you have to show your work and then there’s a multiple choice section. It’s easy enough that he’s done with thirty minutes to spare. He’s left to sit in silence for the rest of the time, as he’s not allowed to talk or listen to music until everyone is done. Like he’s really going to help any of these people out by giving them answers. He’s not fucking stupid. Nor does he have a soft spot for anybody in the class, but he keeps his mouth shut. 

With no book to read, his thoughts quickly become repetitive: graduation is approaching, he hasn’t started a fire in quite some time, it’s warming up, before he knows it he’s going to be in college. He still hasn’t told anybody what he’s going to be majoring in either--a thought that pops up out of the blue and refuses to leave, stopping the cycle he was previously in. He applied way back at the start of the school year and learned shortly thereafter that he had been accepted, which he can thank his grades for because apart from a summer job he held when he was fifteen working at an ice cream shop and a few clubs he joined here and there in middle school and freshmen year, there was nothing on his application except his grades to really make him stand out. He might not always pay the best attention or show up on time, but he’s always been smart enough to get all A’s without even studying. But the point is that his parents have asked since then and so has Louise, but he’s always said shut up and shrugged it off. Why he even kept it a secret to begin with is something he can’t remember, but now it feels like something he should keep locked away until the key to opening it is too obvious for anyone to ignore. 

It’s even weird for him to think about it. He almost thought about backing out shortly before he met Phil, having felt like he had lost the path along the way and settled on a different one, but then Phil came in and helped him out by giving him a reason to find his way back to it once again. 

Then there’s Phil. _ Fucking Phil _ . Always smiling and optimistic, but still three dimensional, instead of the cardboard that the majority of people are. The more Dan hangs out with him, the more stuff that he finds he likes about him. Even the stuff that he originally found annoying. There’s just something intoxicating about Phil, something that he can’t quite put his finger on. Something about the way that they were friends long before Dan or Louise even realized it. Their relationship has been simmering for a while, but now it feels like it’s starting to boil. 

He feels his cheeks warm up just slightly when he thinks that, but takes a deep breath and clear his mind, tapping his fingers lightly on his desk as a way to do so. And he takes that as a sign that maybe he should stop thinking before he digs himself into a hole he can’t get out of. 

* * *

 

When lunch comes around, Dan has to fight with himself. After his thoughts from second block, he’s not ready to really be around Phil, but on the other hand, there’s nothing to be afraid. Phil’s his best friend. It’s as simple as that, so why is his heart racing at the thought of seeing him? Obviously it’s because he’s not used to having friends and he tried so hard to push him away that it’s weird--and slightly embarrassing--to admit that he had been so wrong. Despite his logical thinking, his nerves remain on edge as he takes a seat under a tree and starts eating his salad. 

There’s no doubt in his mind that Louise will find him and show Phil where they sit at. This was their spot at the beginning of the year, back when it was actually warm enough for them to go outside and need only a light jacket at most and not have to worry about freezing. 

He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his fringe before slumping back against the tree. 

_ What’s going on with him? _ He doesn’t get to answer the question (which is definitely a good thing). Louise shows up, with Phil right behind her like Dan figured, just as soon as he asks it and sits down next to him, placing her tray on her outstretched legs. Phil looks lost for a second, but almost unnoticeably shrugs his shoulders and sits down on Dan’s other side. 

Phil’s hair is kind of messy, but still styled just like Dan’s. He’s not wearing anything special--just a plaid shirt and some black skinny jeans--but it looks amazing on him. Goes along nice with that smile he’s always wearing. He’s the sun, so bright that Dan has to look away. 

It’s quiet for a while. They’re all busy eating, and it feels too nice out for words, like the kind of weather that deserves silence so you can fully appreciate it. The sun is shining, only slightly hidden by clouds, and the sky is a beautiful bright blue shade. 

“I can’t believe it’s already time for spring break,” Phil says, breaking the silence. Dan looks at him out of the corner of his eye, mystified by how innocently Phil can look at the world while still being grown up and mature. “Feels like it was just yesterday that I was so nervous for my first day at a new school halfway through the year and now we’re halfway through this semester. That’s crazy.”

It’s just nice to be able to talk to him, so nice that Dan doesn’t get bothered by being reminded of the quick passage of time. 

“I know. It’s all gone by  _ so _ fucking _ fast _ .” 

“Feels like just yesterday that I was trying to force you into befriending Phil,” Louise says, laughing. “I’m still sorry about that, by the way. To both of you.”

“It’s fine,” they say at the same time, which causes Phil to chuckle slightly and his grin to grow wider. He’s so carefree about it all, while Dan’s already feeling like going back into his shell for the rest of lunch. 

“But I mean, not to gloat or anything, you guys are perfect for each other.”

Dan blushes at that, not sure how he’s supposed to take that. If she means it in a friend way or in a they-should-totally-make-out kind of way. Hopefully no one notices the light rose dusting on his cheeks that has him biting his tongue and thinking quickly for something witty to say. 

Instead, he shoves her slightly and says, “Fuck off.” 

“It’s okay, Dan. We shouldn’t have to hide our love.”

“I will chop of your fucking balls and make you eat them if you don’t shut up,” he says, but his words hold no weight. Even if they did, no one would take him seriously considering he’s cheeks are still very warm. Phil and Louise just laugh. “Fuck you guys. I’m leaving.”

He puts his salad container on Louise’s tray and stands up all dramatically, brushing off his pants before stomping away. It’s only a joke, but his eyes briefly catch the smokers’ hang out, letting him know that he’s gone just a little too far considering it’s hidden from the designated spot that they’re allowed to eat in. For a second, he’s drawn to it, can already taste the cigarette in his mouth, and has to stop himself. He promised himself, and Louise, that he would stop, and yeah, he can still do it every once and awhile to ease out of it, but this is a trap. If he goes there, he’s not getting back. He’ll get intoxicated by the smell and the feeling all over again. 

But he has to be strong, so he quickly pivots on his heel and walks back towards the tree, sitting down like nothing happened. 

“I thought you were leaving,” Phil teases, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“Fuck you.”

“You have to at least ask me out on a date first.”

“Is this a bad time to remind you guys that I was right?” Louise asks. “Seriously.”

“You guys suck, and don’t you dare fucking say you wish or any other thing like that or I will scream.”

Phil shakes his head lightly while letting out a slight puff of laughter. It’s actually adorable. And now it’s official. Dan needs to wash his mind out with soap. 

* * *

 

When Dan’s walking home after school, he can’t help but notice how nice the weather is for a fire, a thought that he had been able to block out when he was hanging out with Phil and Louise at lunch. Of course, it’s too early now and far too bright, but it works itself into his mind anyway, all shiny and daring--devilish, too tempting for anything good to come out of it. 

He turns his head away when he passes the swing and lets the idea burn before it can even be built. It’s too risky and he’s too busy. 

Luckily, his house isn’t too far away, so he gets home quickly, kicks his shoes off and hangs up his backpack. 

His parents are sitting on the couch, watching some show that they pause as soon as they notice him. He eyes them suspiciously, but if his parents want to talk, it’s just the distraction he needs to keep himself from going up to his room and planning his next fire. 

“Hi,” he says, voice skeptical, walking over to the chair. He sits down crookedly so he can still face his parents, with his feet hanging over the armrest. 

“Hi,” his mom says. “We were just thinking. It’s getting pretty close to graduation.”

“And which means it’s getting to that point where it’s time to start planning out graduation parties, too,” his dad adds. 

Let’s just get this out of the way. His parents know he isn’t big on parties. He only lets them throw birthday parties for him so they’ll be quiet and so he gets some money. That’s it. Which is most likely why they’ve taken this approach to bringing up a graduation party. It seemed fine at first when he first initiated the conversation. They were sure to make it like that, because now it’s a little too late for him to back out. 

He looks at them blankly, waiting for them to continue. His dad gives him a pointed look, one very typical of fathers who are trying to get the upper hand, but it’s not too forceful, just enough to let Dan know that he’s serious. His mom folds her hands in her lap, which makes her look more vulnerable and sweet, something that’s supposed to tug on his heartstrings and make him answer yes to whatever question they ask next. 

“ _ Soo _ ,” he says and rolls his head in a motion that’s supposed to say go on. His mom is the one who responds. 

“Well, we know you don’t like parties all that much”--see, he’s not lying--“but a graduation party is the perfect way to celebrate the end of your high school career.” 

“And it would mean a lot to your grandparents and aunts and uncles,” his dad says. Seeing the blank expression on his face, he adds, “And you’ll get a lot of money, more than you’d get for a birthday party.”

“If I agree to this, do I get out of a birthday party this year?”

“We’ll see. It is a special one, considering you’re turning eighteen, but your mom and I will think about it. Right, dear?”

“Right. As long as you let us throw you a huge graduation party and invite your friends, too.”

Dan groans and rolls his eyes, but he’s not all that upset. If they’re not lying about the money, then he has no reason to be. Plus, he wants to make his parents happy and this is a step towards completely fixing their relationship. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to see them smile more often. (He does actually have a heart after all.)

They go over a few details, Dan nods every occasionally and hums in agreement, and slowly but surely, his parents are full on grinning by the time they wrap it all up. 

“I’m going to go to my room for a little,” he says, getting up off the chair. “I love you.”

He heads to his room and hears, “I love you, too,” from both of his parents before heading up the stairs. 

He’s tired, a little worn out from finals and talking with his parents and life in general, but the thought from earlier comes back. The one about Phil helping him find his path (and also the one about him not telling anybody what he’s going to college for, but that can wait). He was on a high after reading the book Phil had told him to read, and he had started a short story about his life as if it wasn’t his own, had created a similar title to the book that served as his motivation. It fell apart after that and had never gotten any farther. 

Except now, he’s realized why he enjoyed writing in the first place enough to actually make something out of it. 

Instead of collapsing on his bed, he goes to his desk and opens up his laptop and deletes the old story. This time, when he starts writing again, he leaves the title blank, lets the story find it’s own name, and starts from his first fire, skips all of the boring stuff in the middle, and jumps to his catalyst that sped up his story and made it interesting. It’s his life, and this time, he doesn’t try to pretend like it’s not. 

His fingers fly over the keys, typing as quick as he can, leaving no time for him to stop and think. The sound is like music to his ears, and with each word he writes, and every sentence and paragraph that unfolds with it, he feels the tension leave his body and pour out onto the page of a once blank document. The words are stains of his imperfections, but they look beautiful in black and white. 

The title hits him in the middle of a sentence, when he realizes that writing this is calming him more than smoking ever could, just as much as watching something burn. It’s a feeling he’s only been able to find one place else before, one that nothing else has come quite close to, and yet, he’s found it again in the form of a story and the freedom to take it anywhere. He doesn’t have to set something on fire for him to feel this way anymore, so he calls it _ Not On Fire _ , because with this story, that’s what his world is. 


	22. Surprise, I'm an arsonist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typed and posted on my iPod so sorry for any typos

He holds the lighter in his right hand and an old blanket in the left. It has a story. Grandma gave it to him when he was ten, sent it in the mail, and signed love you with a pen running out of ink. It's blue and white and crocheted with love, according to the tag on the bottom that tells him love is just another word for mass produced. His grandma is a selfish bitch, sees him once or twice every five years and sends ten dollars for birthdays and holidays if she remembers. Most of the time she doesn't. She's just another memory he wants to die and as long as he has the blanket that can't happen.

Memories are spread out around him--stuffed animals, clothes, toys, anything he could get his hands on. His bear is in the closet. That memory is already fading but these are too raw, too fresh for him to handle.

Writing had done its job, gotten him buried ten thousand words deep in a story with no outline because his life is too hectic for one to ever make sense, but he needs more than black and white on screens and flimsy printer paper. He needs orange and yellow flickering flames and destruction. Not creation. He's got baggage that won't fit into his new life.

He brings the flame to the blanket, watches as it catches on fire quick and white and blue turns to black and gray. It's pretty and calming, clearing his mind. He's not a drug addict, but he is addicted to this--to the thrill of it all and to the power it makes him feel like he has. It allows him to forget about the passage of time, about graduation looming overhead. He needs a fire in whatever form he can fucking get it.

There's no knock on the door before its opened, just the sound of a creaky door that alerts him someone has walked in on a very comprising position. Fuck, it would be better if they walked in on him fucking someone. That he can explain. This--what is he supposed to say? Hey, whoever you are, surprise, I'm an arsonist. A fucking pyromaniac. Like that would ever go over well.

It feels like this should be in slow motion. If it was a movie, it probably would be. He'd turn his head, his mouth would drop when he saw who it was, struggle to find a plausible excuse as the person on the other side backs away slowly, hand over their mouth. Too bad this isn't a movie.

It's Louise and she's got confusion written all over her face like she's some book everyone's reading. She's not an open book, but she's been opened. And Dan is desperately trying to keep closed.

"What the fuck!" she says. Thank god that his parents aren't home. Probably let her in before they left a few minutes ago. Wandered around a bit, deciding what she wanted before coming up. But he's just speculating. Can't know for sure because he's not in her head. He wishes he could be sometimes. She's not an open book, hasn't always been this easy to read.

"Shit!" he says, skipping the whole it's not what it looks like speech. It is what it looks like. There's no lie he can come up with to cover what he's doing. Can't say it's for a project for school. She knows his classes enough to know none of them cover burning things in their curriculum. He can't say it's not his own work, but he can come up with a fake excuse for why he has a lighter and a burnt blanket in his hands.

"You should probably start talking because I'm pretty confused right now, enough to confuse you with the arsonist we've all been hearing about."

"Thought you were done being pushy." He should stop trying to hide. Too bad he's never been good at giving in, giving up.

She gives him a stern look, puts her hand on her hip, and says, "This isn't the time. I may be smart enough to know there is no way you could be the arsonist"--not like there isn't evidence to support it, he goes missing every night that there is a fire and comes back with the excuse that he just went on a walk, he hasn't gone on a walk in a while, and there hasn't been a fire in a while but he's not saying that to her--"but that still doesn't help any of this make sense."

First thing that comes to mind and he says, "Look, I've been trying to quit smoking and it was working fine, but it was my way to calm down. I needed something to replace it. This is what helps." It's not a complete lie, so the words come out smooth like butter, no hint of hesitation or anything to indicate that he's thinking too much about what comes out of his mouth.

He's not sure when lying became second nature to him. It's always been a way to protect himself, nothing more, but he used to stumble over words and pause in the middle of sentence, leaving thoughts incomplete and conversations dropped.

The look she sends him speaks volumes. He's on page thirty and she's on twenty, but she still has enough knowledge to guess what's coming next. Foreshadowing is a thing for a reason but right now it sucks. She doesn't believe him, at least not fully, has seen too much--read too much--to fall for it completely. Maybe she sees that the truth is buried deep within his words. That she just needs to analyze them to find the hidden meaning. Needs to keep reading.

He drops the lighter, blows at the blanket to make sure it's not going to burn his carpet and sets it down, all before standing up. Wiping dust off his jeans to keep his hands busy. He's surrounded by memories and now they're finally getting they're revenge. Karma is a fucking bitch.

"Okay," Louise answers, words slow like her steps as she walks further into his room. "I'm sorry for coming in unannounced like this. Didn't think you'd be busy."

"I'm always busy. Sometimes it's just busy being not busy. It's consuming work, is all. If I had known you were coming over, I would have cleaned up a bit." He doesn't have to look around to know that his room is a mess. Memories he'd like to forget litter the floor and he can't look down without being reminded of the past. Which is rarely a good thing it seems. Some of them he shares with Louise. Most of them she doesn't have a clue about. He shrugs. Tries to seem nonchalant. Fails cause he can't stop his eyes from looking all around, his fingers from playing with the pockets of his black skinny jeans and the bottom of his gray shirt.

"I just wanted to hang out again. We haven't done that in a while. Not since, you know." He does know; they stopped talking right a while ago, but they're trying to fix that. That's what counts. Forget the rest. If only it was that easy. "Everything has been so crazy lately and I've been missing you. You're my best friend."

Louise has other friends, better friends. Dan only has one. They're not best friends anymore. He doesn't correct her because sometimes it's nice holding onto the past. Sometimes. She's his past, present, and future. Things like that can't be ignored.

So he says she's his best friend, too, and adds, "I'm sorry," even though he's not sure if he is. People drift apart. For one reason or another. That's not to say he's done being friends with Louise. She's his future, remember, but they don't have to pretend like they're best friends anymore. Maybe they never were. Who knows.

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault only. We both messed up. Made mistakes without realizing it." She pauses. Takes a deep breath. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He means it and feels like running to her, arms spread out and ready for a huge. It feels like it would be the right thing to do, and it's about time they stop doing everything wrong. She's surprised by the hug--this he can tell--when she takes a few seconds to wrap her arms around him, but when she does, she holds in tight and pulls him close.

Hanging out for them used to mean being in the same room but doing separate things. Or watching movies but speaking only occasionally. They've never hung out right. Probably never did anything right. They've changed though, grown up and opened their eyes. It's time they start acting like it.

"So what do you want to do?" Dan asks, pulling back. He smiles lightly at the tears in Louise's eyes. Ones he hopes that are happy. He's happy. "We could go to the mall or something."

"Or something," she says, eyes twinkling with something other than tears. The reason she came here, per chance, wasn't as simple as wanting to see him here. Maybe she didn't have an idea in mind, but even she knew, in the early stages of whatever is going on, that something needed to change. He's about to respond when she continues, "I was thinking that we could go to the park, you know the one that had its swings burned down by the arsonist." She doesn't say sorry for accusing him. Maybe she knows more than she's letting on. He doesn't want to know. Thinks it's better not to bring it up. Like he's suddenly an expert or something.

"Shit. I haven't been there in forever." Lie. Not a complete one--he's becoming good at twisting the truth. He's been avoiding it recently, but he has been there this year and not too long ago, either. He's not exactly looking forward to going, either. There's a reason he's been avoiding. More than one, actually. "That thing was two kids from falling down, last time I checked. Are you sure you want to go there? The mall is boring, but it'd probably be better than a dingy old park."

"I'm sure. There are more memories there than the mall anyway."

Memories can be dangerous. Louise has just pulled out a bomb.

***

It's chilly outside, but not annoyingly so. You'd expect more heat when it's spring is all. Dan doesn't have to stick his hands in his pockets to keep them from feeling like they're going to fall off, so that's good. A lot of things are--good, that is. Too good. He's thought this before. It feels like the calm before the storm. Maybe it is. Maybe he shouldn't be thinking about that.

No one is at the park. Not that it's a surprise or anything. He'd probably have a hard attack if there were someone. And if they went anywhere near the actual wooden playground, they'd probably have one too. Fuck them if they didn't. This is Dan's place, even if he had plans of staying away for a while. He's possessive. Things in his life are rarely as simple as that. This one is.

He walks toward the bench and sits down. It's a little ways off from the playground, but still close enough that it remains in sight. He can't remember the last time he saw the park from this perspective. If he ever did. Louise follows--takes the seat right next to him. His eyes devour the place, each inch soaked in memories. She was right, not that he ever doubted her--there are always going to be more memories here than the mall. No matter what.

It feels like they should be quiet, soak in the silence, but that's not what they need. Not now. Not ever. Communication is key.

"Why did you want to come here?" he asks. He keeps his voice quiet for no reason in particular. It's too calm for something loud, but it's more than that. It's something that he can't put his finger on.

"This park used to be a second home. When my parents were drunk all the time, when they didn't care. We used to come here just to get away for a while and have fun. I loved those swings. Think I cried a few different times when I found out it was burned down," she says. The only thing that really sticks is the last sentence. Louise likes the past, but Dan would rather watch it burn in hell. Two different people. One fucked up friendship. "And now that graduation is coming up, I don't know. I'm just feeling nostalgic. Like I've just watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower about a million times in one sitting." She shakes her head like she's getting rid of the thoughts surrounding her. Suffocating her.

And now he's drowning in them. The park wasn't originally a secret Dan locked away. All the kids in the neighborhood used to go to it. There rarely was a dull moment. With a playground so small, it always felt crowded. Too much happened here for the past to be ignored. That's the problem.

He doesn't want to remember that night. The night he set the wooden swing set on fire. He really doesn't, but whenever his eyes find it, all he sees is orange and yellow flames. Dancing in the wind. Engulfing it whole. He can't show it. Louise is catching up, he's slowed down. Needs to keep running to stay ahead, but he's too tired. Everything has become a problem.

He looks away.

"Remember when you wanted to impress some people from our elementary school," he says, speaking of a memory he had forgotten. There's a dazed look in his eyes. "You swung as high as you could and then jumped and ended up spraining your ankle. You cried for days."

"Everyone said it would be easy. That it wouldn't hurt at all. Forget about the crying, I stopped talking to everyone except you for the two whole days."

"Life used to be so different. So much easier."

"We used to be so different," Louise says somberly. That's the only kind of tone that's right for a conversation like this.

There's no teasing. No fighting. Everything is raw and uninhibited. Like it's supposed to be.

She looks over at Dan every once and a while, with wild eyes and skepticism washing over him. He doesn't say anything. After what she saw early, she has every right to tread carefully, cautiously. It would be wrong it she didn't. Then he'd be wondering if she had something to hide herself. Like maybe she rewrote the book a few times before she published it for the world to see.

"I've always wondered why someone would burn that swing. But now I think, maybe it had too many memories for them to handle. Maybe the arsonist thinks deeper than just fire and gasoline."

She has no idea. Or too much of one. There's no in between with her. It's black and white. Gray has never been her thing.

"Maybe."

They leave shortly after that. Even good memories can be suffocating to people like Louise who thrive off of them. She no longer carries herself with a straight back and poised shoulders; she's slouched and defeated. Like she didn't get what she wanted. Going off of the way she looked at Dan, she most definitely didn't. Maybe Louise isn't always honest either.


	23. are you really an arsonist?

Dan doesn't expect Louise to come back with him--figures she's gotten what she's wanted, hung out with him for a while, about an hour in total. Not that an hour is all that long because it's not, but the way he sees it is that they're simply taking baby steps. One hour is a baby step. And it's the best he can offer right now. To put it simply, he's a little surprised when she falls in step right beside him, misses her turn and keeps walking.

 

She wants more--isn't done with him quite yet. But he's already given all he's willing to. Unless she's willing to get down on her knees and beg. Even then, he would only carry the words on the tip of his tongue before swallowing them. There's a reason it's called a secret. Don't break it.

 

Just like silence: don't break it. They don't talk for the whole walk back. It's best that way. She wants, so she takes. He's not giving. Let's hope she doesn't resort to stealing. Then they'll both be criminals.

 

If it's truth that she wants, then it's lies that she'll get. No one has to know.

 

When they get to Dan's house, Louise plops down on the couch, rather dramatically. His parents aren't home, judging by the missing car in the driveway and the quiet in the house.

 

Dan sits down next to her. Keeps a safe distance from a force that pulls and pushes too much for his taste. It's not paranoia that has him arms length away. He just wants to keep their friendship alive. If he lets her too close, that bombs going to blow. That can't happen.

 

"Do you know when your parents are going to be home?" Louise asks. The silence is broken. Don't break the secret because of it. "I saw them when they were leaving but I didn't ask." Assumption correct--that's irrelevant.

 

"No," he says, shaking his head. "All I know is that they had a grocery list a mile long."

 

Simple talk, easy thoughts--it's all too normal for him--leaves him feeling like it's going to wrap around his neck and squeeze. His life has never been normal, so why does it feel like it is now? He shouldn't ask questions he doesn't want to know the answer to. That would be the safe--and smart--thing to do. Two things he's only fond of in school.

 

"What was that anyway? In your room? You said that you did it to help quit smoking, but that doesn't explain how you thought of it in the first place." This--this is a bit more complex and yet, he still can't handle it. Louise knows how to do more than push his buttons. She's pretty good at jamming them, too. He sure has a way with friends. Phil makes him feel different, in a way he can't explain, and Louise gets to him in more ways than one.

 

He's just trying to distract himself. Not a thought comes to him that'll help him work through this situation. No bullshit excuse that he can think of. In simple terms, it's starting to look like he's fucking screwed.

 

The real reason he started burning his stuff? Well, there are two: 1) it was an easy way he could be destructive when he couldn't set fires and 2) he has too many memories that he doesn't want, doesn't need, and don't help at all. But he can't say those. The first one is a dead give away that he's an arsonist or a pyromaniac. The second one just sounds a little insane outside of his head.

 

"Smoking helped me forget, clear my mind, and I just thought that maybe burning things with such strong memories attached would do the same," Dan says and shrugs his shoulders. That's all he can do. Apart from hope that she believes something so half-assed.

 

"Come on, Dan, tell me the truth," Louise demands. And that face, the one he hasn't seen in so long, comes back. She's trying to force him into it, but his lips are sealed shut.

 

"That is the truth, and even if it wasn't, you promised to lay off." She pulled out a knife, but he had a sword up his sleeve.

 

"Fine, fine. I trust you." Oddly enough, it doesn't feel like she does. "And I promise I'm trying. I just, it's not that easy, but I'm trying. It's just going to take some time."

 

"I know. I trust you, too."

 

The conversation dies after that. He's able to convince himself that Louise believes him even though her words didn't sound sincere or not genuine. There's nothing more to be said. Feels like she should leave at any second--but he's not going to say that to avoid being rude. His blood isn't always cold. Wasn't always. Life has a way of fucking everyone over. He's not even eighteen and he already knows that all too well. That's not even him trying to sound like he's had a hard life. Because he hasn't. He just got fucked a little sooner than most when he decided simple wasn't for him.

 

Dan's used to every silence feeling awkward unless he's preoccupied with something else, but this is comfortable. Even though no show is on or music; they're not waking home or playing on their phones. It's as quiet as it gets and it's peaceful. There's no rushing wind or sounds of birds chirping. It's just breathing. In and out. It's oddly calming.

 

If thinking weren't so dangerous, he'd do that, but he's had enough of it. Just because he wants it to go one way doesn't mean his mind will listen. It pulls him away from Louise and towards the one person that he doesn't want to think about. Thoughts and memories must be twins.

 

Silence can't last forever. It's too fragile. Too easy to break. (He's a little more like it than he's willing to admit.) The door opening shatters it, footsteps follow, and the sound of voices crushes it even more. His moms says, "We're home," and follows it by the slamming of the front door.

 

They're both carrying large grocery bags all up their arms, but set them down once they've walked far enough into the house. Dan's surprised that they didn't ask him to help. Doesn't say anything anyway. Instead, he gets up off the couch and starts grabbing the bags off the ground to carry them into the kitchen and help sort the groceries and put them away. His mom offers a small smile as a way of saying thank you, while his dad grabs some more and joins in. Louise stays behind, probably knows her place enough to know that there's no room for it in this.

 

He can't remember the last time he helped them with the groceries. It's not even that important, but his mind still searches for something that will make him feel less like a jerk and more like a good son. It's a lost cause--and he's smart enough to correct it's to he's.

 

When he sets the final bags down in the kitchen table, he's able to get a good look at the clock they have hung up on the wall above the sink. It's going on five o'clock and he hasn't had anything to eat since lunch and had slept through breakfast.

 

"What's for dinner?" he asks. He's sorting through the food now--everything that goes in the cabinet downstairs goes in one pile, the freezer downstairs another, the cabinets upstairs another, the freezer upstairs another, and finally one last pile for everything that goes in the fridge.

 

"You're mom's making some meat pie with mixed vegetables on the side," his dad answers, busy helping Dan out. "Is Louise staying for dinner?"

 

"I don't know," he says and shrugs. She might leave in a minute or in a hour. Who knows. That book has been closed. "She might."

 

"Well, just let me or your mom know as soon as you do so mom knows how much she should make." His dad takes a look around. "Your mom and I can take it from here. Thanks for the help."

 

"You're welcome." Any time. It's what a good son would do. I can be a good son. I promise. He keeps those thoughts to himself even though they threaten to spill out. The bottle isn't quite full yet, but he tipped it--righted it before anything could happen. It's for the best.

 

He goes back out to the living room. Louise is still on the couch, but this time Dan's mom has joined her. They're talking in hushed whispers so Dan can't hear and stop when he's close enough that they can see them.

 

"Well," his mom says, pushing herself up off the couch, "I should probably go help your dad put away the groceries so I'll leave you two be."

 

She leaves and Dan takes her spot, looks deep into Louise's eyes and searches for something. He's not sure what, but there had to be a reason they were keeping their voices so quiet in an otherwise empty room. The eyes are--apparently--not the window to her soul.

 

"What were you and my mom talking about?" he asks and blames it on the curiosity he knows his face is drenched in.

 

"It was nothing"--which is key for it was about him, probably about how he's been getting better, making friends and not be all depressed--"except small talk." She doesn't add honestly to the end of it. Just trusts him to trust her. He knows she's lying, but that doesn't mean his trust his misplaced necessarily. Either way, some things just aren't worth dwelling on, so he drops it. Keeps his suspicions to himself.

 

"Oh, okay. So are you staying for dinner?" Simple. Normal. Suffocating. Breathe. Repeat.

 

"If you don't mind."

 

Truth is hideous. It's best if it stays hidden.

 

"I don't."

* * *

 

Dinner is served at six o'clock after an hour of watching television with Louise and avoiding her knowing looks. His parents have gone all out--there's a white tablecloth on the dining room table, the plates and silverware have already been set, and the pie with the vegetables is plated in the middle. Louise has had dinner with them numerous times, so why they've decided to be fancy for the night is beyond him. Especially considering meat pie is not elegant.

 

Louise sits down next to him on the bench, his parents across from them. It's quiet at first, with the only noise being that of food being served and silverware scraping against plates. His dad likes to scramble it up before he eats it. He presses his fork down into repeatedly to break it up. His mom covers it in a sort of gravy that's created by cooking the filling beforehand. He puts ketchup on top. Louise doesn't do anything with hers.

 

"So what have you two been up to today?" his mom asks in between bites of her food.

 

"We went to the park," he answers, eyes darting back and forth between Louise and his mom. He figured they would have, at least, briefly touched upon that when they were talking earlier. Clearly not.

 

"Why would you want to go to that old thing?" his dad says. "Whoever burned down that swing was doing a favor and should have got the rest, too. The whole playground is a death trap." Thank you--though his dad probably doesn't think the same about the rest he's done, at least he's not the only one who realized it had to go.

 

"It was my idea," Louise chips in. Goes on about how many memories she shared with Dan there. How they were remembering the past for once instead of running from it. The last bit is what Dan hears too loud and too clear. She's referring to what Dan said earlier. "I think the arsonist might share memories with that place, too. Maybe that's why they did what they did."

 

"Funny, I was just reading an article in the newspaper about them. They haven't done anything in so long. Police haven't said much, but there's speculation about whether or not they stopped." His dad shakes his head. "I don't buy it for one second."

 

"Oh I remember you telling me about that. Why don't you believe the stopped again?" His mom wipes her mouth off delicately once she's finished speaking.

 

"It's not like they haven't gone on breaks before. They're probably just trying to figure out what else to burn down."

 

Dan squirms in his seat. Hopes that no one notices, but knowing Louise, she definitely did, probably out of the corner of her eye to not draw so much suspicion to it. Here he is, talking with his parents and Louise about himself as if it's somebody he's never met. Fuck normal. This is harder. He'd take simple talks about weather with Louise than this--any day.

 

"Do you know if the police have any leads?" The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. Instead of swallowing them, he spits them out like poison and they fall from his lips faster than he can reach out to catch them.

 

"Probably not. It's been going on for so long. They would have found them by now if they were going to. They even brought in a new detective or whatever for the job and he hasn't done anything. I bet they expected the guy to hang around a little too long one day and that's how they planned to catch them--that's how most arsonists are caught. They're still looking though," his dad says. His dad loves research and useless facts. It's not a surprise that he has more knowledge on it than Dan even though Dan has first had experienced. He would have stayed around, but he didn't want to get caught. It seemed like common sense to him--firefighters will show up eventually to put it out, so don't be there when they do.

 

Apparently that makes him smarter than most. Who would have guessed.

 

After that, the conversation turns simple, with responses minutes after. He drops out of it and leaves it to Louise and his parents. His thoughts belong to himself right now. Belong locked away in a safe that only he has the combination to. It all becomes background noise and he buries himself in eating his meat pie and vegetables. Every so often, he looks over and Louise. She's looking at him like he's a puzzle and she's almost finished piecing him together. Fuck.

 

He knew it was dangerous, but everything about his life has been since he decided fires were too interesting to only be seen in pictures and the tiny flicker of a lighter and the occasional bonfire. He just wanted to dance on the edge. Not jump into the raging river.

* * *

 

They go up to his room when they finish eating. Louise doesn't even wait for him to lie down on his bed with his arms behind his head before she, sitting down in his chair, says, "You don't know how the arsonist is, right?" She might as well be asking if he's he arsonist with the way her eyes seem to be burning holes into him. She's looking at an X-ray to see what he's hidden deep inside of him, but she doesn't have good enough x-Ray vision to see what he's hidden even from himself.

 

There's no guesswork here. She definitely thinks it's him, but he's the puppet master. It's time for him to start toying with her like doll on strings.

 

"Of course not!" he says, rather loudly, and continues quietly, "Just because I was burning things earlier doesn't mean I've now joined a club for pyromaniacs where we get together and talk about how many fires we've started."

 

"I'm not saying you did. It's just . . . when we were talking about the arsonist at dinner, you seemed really uncomfortable."

 

"I was uncomfortable because I was thinking about how you practically accused me of being the arsonist earlier when you saw me with the blanket in my hand." He shakes his head and sits on the end of his bed. "So much for you trusting me."

 

"I do trust you!" she says. Throws her hands up for emphasis.

 

"Then you'd trust me to tell you those kinds of things if I had any to tell you. You're being silly is all." He falls back on to his bed. He can't look at her right now. If she's not falling for it, she'll lie and say she is, but might keep a glint in her eyes that says otherwise if she doesn't know that it's there. Which is something that he's not ready to see yet.

 

"You're right. I was just seeing things that weren't really there." Her voice sounds like she's trying to convince herself that it's the truth. Hopefully she'll be able to or he's screwed.

 

The water is getting colder, but she's getting closer.


	24. maybe I should jump

The water stretches out in front of him, a harsh blue color that’s murky and muddled so much that you can’t even see an inch below the surface. There’s a slight dampness to the railing--a result of the rain that had only just stopped ten minutes ago--that he’s leaning his folded arms on. The air is still and calm, and rain clouds linger over head, but everything is relaxed. Like the worst is done for and it can only get better from here. Everyone is out now, running around with their kids or hanging out with their girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever they are. There’s a playground to the right of him, situated right in the corner where the railing curves to follow the path of the river, and it’s filled with moms and dads with their young kids, laughter filling the once silent area. 

This playground isn’t rundown like the one near Dan’s house, but that’s to be expected. It was built to attract more attention to the river that marks the border between Iowa and Illinois. One of the few things that this city actually had that made it more interesting than just another city surrounded by stifling corn. Corn that traps you in, leaves you wishing of the day you’ll leave, of the day that will never come. Then again, there are plenty of towns that run along the river, too, which means that they have to have more than just a river. They need to have attractions next to it--like the ballpark, the multiple playgrounds and parks, the sky bridge (which isn’t even directly next to the river, just close enough to it that when you park to get on it, you can’t help but notice the vast water that stretches out in front of it), and whatever else they can get their hands on to call themselves unique. 

“It’s silly to think that we only moved about twenty minutes away and I haven’t seen any of my friends since,” Phil says, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of them like a blanket of snow. “Not that I’d call any of them real friends, but still. Is it sad that you and Louise are my first real friends?”

It’s so random, but Dan doesn’t question it. Instead, he turns his head just slightly so he can look at Phil (and not just out of the corner of his eye, like he often does). Phil’s facing the river. A reminder of his old home, the city he grew up in, which is along the river, too, and like he said, not at all far away from where they are now. He can’t help but wonder if it feels like hours away to Phil. Like a distant memory that’s hard to focus on, but is always there, in the back of your mind, resurfacing when you least expect it. He doesn’t ask, but notices the soft frown on Phil’s lips . . . his lips that are always smiling it seems. The slight look of gloom on his face as he glances down at the water. The way only one arm rests on the railing while the other is in the pocket of his jeans awkwardly positioned in a way that would only be comfortable to him. It’s like he feels that the worst has yet to come. That this is just the calm before the real storm happens--there may be rocky roads that make you think you’ve reached the climax, that it’ll just dissipate now, but then the feelings and suspense just keeps picking up and eventually, you realize that you still have more to come. 

“I’d say yes, but then again, you’re my first real best friend”--it feels weird to say that, but he swallows down the feeling loudly and hopes that Phil doesn’t hear--“unless you count Louise. Lately, I’m not sure if we were ever truly friends.” He’s not sure what possesses him to say that, but now it’s too late. He can’t catch the words in midair and greedily stuff them back into his traitorous mouth--act like nothing happened. 

He turns his head down and looks at the peeling black paint, the droplets of water that refuse to go away even when he runs his finger over them and tries to wipe them off. It’s easier than facing the reality of the situation. 

“What do you mean by that?” Phil says curiously. Dan doesn’t look, but he’s almost sure that he’s tilted his head slightly in confusion, his gaze solely on Dan. 

“It’s just . . . ever since I confronted her about being too pushy and we both decided to try and better ourselves, it’s like we’ve run out of things to talk about. Like for the longest time our whole relationship was built on her criticizing me and pushing me to do things I didn’t want to do and me agreeing to it, making promises that quickly fell through. Now that we don’t have that anymore, we have nothing.” He shrugs, lets his words abruptly cut off. He’s running, running, running, and then he just stops at the edge of the cliff, debating whether or not to just jump. Into the raging river. The cold water. Everything he had just narrowly escaped. 

He almost expects Phil to ask about that. What Louise saw. Old Louise would have told somebody right away, even if she did fully believe his half-assed excuse, but New Louise is a different story. One that he’s only been able to read the first chapter of and can no longer get his hands on. It appears, however, like Louise didn’t give her signed copy of Dan’s story over to Phil. At least not yet. 

“I always thought something was off about the dynamic of your relationship, but it always felt wrong to ask,” Phil answers. “But I’m sure you guys were at least friends no matter what. My guess is she wasn’t always like that, right?”

“It was probably best you didn’t ask. Knowing me, I would have gladly cut your balls off for asking. I was an asshole, still am. That’s never going to fucking change, but we were friends. There’s no denying that. She wasn’t always like that; I was always like this.” When he says the last sentence, he only hopes that Phil doesn’t catch the underlying meaning. Doesn’t notice that he’s not talking about how rude he is, but more so about how he wasn’t always a pyromaniac, at least to this extent. He didn’t always smoke and burn old memories and anything else he could get his hands on. “Fuck, I haven’t even told her where I’m going to college or what I’m going for. I’ve been keeping it a secret and I don’t even know why at this point.”

“You’re not an asshole, Dan. Sure, your words tend to be a bit sharp sometimes, but your bark is bigger than your bite. You kept pushing me away, but you let me in eventually without any scrapes. And you can tell Louise where you’re going and why you’re going any time.” 

Does the saying  _ love makes a person blind _ apply to like, too? Because that’s the only thing that Dan can think of to explain why Phil is being so nice to him and his character, which he knows is shoddy at best and that’s being nice. 

He picks at the black, getting it stuck uncomfortably underneath his nails, but he ignores it, using the distraction to his advantage. 

The waves are forceful at this point, hinting at what the future holds, but nobody seems to be paying attention to it at all. The sound of them hitting the edge and climbing up to the concrete that’s been built fills in any lapses in noise, but it’s easily drowned out by an even louder noise of children laughing, couples saying sweet things. And then there’s them--Dan and Phil, two best friends who are still figuring out how to work together, not against each other. 

Everything about the atmosphere seems tense, on edge. They’re at the top of the roller coaster, momentarily stopped, and the nerves only build the longer they have to wait for the drop before it’s all over. 

It almost feels like his words should be the thing that sends them flying down towards the ground, but they’re not. When he says, “I’m going to a college in New York so I can be close to the publishing. Louise mentioned how I wanted to be a writer, and I never gave that up. That’s what I’m going for,” it’s still eerily calm and silent as everyone holds their breath, still wanting for the plunge. Yet, he said it in a single breath, the words tumbling out of his mouth. It’s the start of something. The question is _ what _ . 

“Is it bad that I was kind of hoping that you would say you were going somewhere in-state? Louise is my friend, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know. I’m going to miss you.”

The words  _ I’m going to miss you, too _ , get stuck in Dan’s throat and he struggles not to choke on them, so he says, “I can’t believe that we’re having this conversation. Fucking hell, it feels like just yesterday was the first day back after winter break and I just met you. Graduation is already so close--times moving so quickly and I’m struggling to keep up.” 

He has to remind himself that this is something he’s always dreamed of. It still doesn’t help. 

“Every year, it feels like it’s getting shorter, but I actually read somewhere that the days, years--they’re all getting longer. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but supposedly, the reason we think it’s getting shorter is because each year that passes, the smaller percentage that each year takes up in our lives. When we’re five, the years feel longer because we’ve only gone through five, but when we’re fifteen, we’ve gone through fifteen years and suddenly they don’t feel so long anymore.” 

Dan shrugs and lifts his head. The water stretches on in front of him, the end just barely in sight. Like his future. Graduation is in sight, but it still feels so far away. 

“Time is just a perceived idea, a construct created by people before us in order to wrap their minds around and comprehend everything. It makes sense. One of the few things that does in life.” 

Underneath the chipping, black paint is silver--dull, but it still has a slight shine to it. In a way, it’s prettier than the black. Raw and real, not hiding behind a spray on mask. But it’s not as put together, not as cleaned up and polished for public view. It was covered for a reason; it should have stayed that way. The black, while dark, was more attractive than the truth. 

The truth should stay buried, so why is it being dug up?

“Life is just subjective. You could say that it’s just a figment of our imagination--that we subconsciously create the people, their personalities, how we interact with them--each decision we unknowingly make cutting away at us, eventually leading to our death when there is nothing left to take away,” Phil says, his voice oddly serene. 

Phil is beautiful, but Dan had no idea his words were, too. It’s not wonder why he writes with words like that. 

“I never knew you were so,” Dan says, trying to find the word to finish that sentence, one that isn’t smart, “thoughtful.” 

“I never knew you were so existential.” 

“I keep it to myself.”

“Just like I keep my thoughts to myself or they won’t be my thoughts anymore.”

Dan turns around and leans his back against the railing, resting his elbows on it for further support. 

Cars are parked all along the road. There’s a lot of hills across the street, one that’s go up and then dip down just as quickly, and more kids are playing on them than the actual park. From far away, he can tell it’s slippery, but that doesn’t stop them, even when they’re covered in mud. When people are determined to do something--have fun, figured out the truth, whatever is--nothing can stop them. 

The veracity of the situation must come out eventually. Dan can feel it closing in. He’s not ready, but that’s not going to stop it (or her, for that matter, with her thoughts that know just how each puzzle piece fits together). It’s closing in on him, making it harder for him to breathe, pushing him to jump before he’s pushed because it’s going down anyway. 

“Remind me why it took so long for me to admit that we’re friends?” _ More than friends even, you’re so amazing, I can’t even fathom how lucky I am to be able to call you my friend, my heart is always racing when you’re near, why is that, what have you done to me? _ He cuts his thoughts off after that. They’re treacherous, but impregnable, and he can never truly stop them. Just pushes them to the back of his mind. Waits for them to resurface and the battle to begin all over again. 

“I don’t know. I tried so hard, for so long, but you just kept shutting me down.”

“I’m sorry.” 

He can think of a million excuses as to why he pushed off for so long, and while a lot of them were major factors, the one that keeps on running through his mind, even know, is that Phil is in a position of power over Dan. His dad’s a cop and Dan’s an arsonist. Phil has so much control over Dan’s feelings, and he doesn’t even know. Louise, at least, plays her cards knowing how they’re going to affect Dan, pushing his buttons until he snaps. 

“Don’t be. We’re friends now. That’s what counts.” 

“I refused to give you a chance.”

“But you gave me one in the end.”

His heart thumps loudly in his chest when he looks over at Phil, who has turned so his body is facing Dan. His smile isn’t happy, more thoughtful than anything else, but it makes him look beautiful. Dan burns the thought, drenches it in gasoline and lights a match, throws it, and watches as it lights up. Orange and yellow, hints of red. Destruction in its purest form--beauty. 

The words _ just like Phil _ threaten to take over.  _ Phil, phil, phil _ being all he can think about, but he turns away and looks at the children. So young, so innocent. So naive. He wishes he could be like that, but it’s too late to turn around now. Stomps on the thoughts and squashes them. 

“Do you regret it?” Phil asks when Dan hasn’t said anything after a minute. 

“Of course not.”

“Then there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a free-form approach to writing the Mississippi River (and furthermore, the city I live in--which I actually researched it a bit while writing this and I found out it's the third largest city in Iowa, so have fun with that information and come stalk me and the person who invented the created the first automatic bread-slicing machine for commercial use was born here and I'm not sure what I'm going to do with that information). 
> 
> This chapter wasn't even planned and it was weird writing without an outline, but for the past few days, I kept thinking that the story was missing something--a river scene. Because 1) the city it takes place in is next to the river and 2) what puts out a fire? water, so it only made sense that there be something on the river and it actually holds a lot of foreshadowing and symbolism and I'm glad I decided to add it in because I think it really helps the story come together a bit more. The last bit is actually really important (in my opinion) but it probably won't make sense why for a few more chapters. But yeah short filler chapter (lets be real, most of my chapters are on the shorter side, but eh i like writing and reading short chapters) and full of so much important things and ahh I'm so excited for the chapters to come you have no idea.


	25. breathe, I'm suffocating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter but with some important stuff so yeah nothing too exciting (it's really hard to make studying scenes interesting but i tried okay !!)

“Please tell me when I’m going to need to know any of this stuff outside of school?” Chris asks, shutting his book loudly and slamming it against the table. 

“You’re never going to need it,” PJ says. He shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure that’s the point. And why other countries have school systems and curriculums that are more catered towards the student’s own personal ambitions and career goals.” 

They’re studying at PJ’s house today. Apparently, even though there are still a few weeks until finals, and furthermore the last day of high school, it’s important to study now so they can get good grades. Or something like that. Dan’s never been one to study, but he’s trying to be better. At everything. Which is why he’s here instead of hanging out with Louise or Phil or keeping to himself--he’d prefer any of those options over what’s going on now. 

They’ve been studying together for a few days now, rotating whose house they’re meeting at. First it was Phil’s, then Chris’, and now it’s PJ’s. Dan figures he’ll probably be next, Louise last, simply because Louise has distanced herself further from the rest of them than Dan, which is saying something. Louise, who always pushed Dan to make friends, didn’t really do the same; she has other friends. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t particularly interested in totally befriending them. She’s nice to them--close to Phil, probably, but PJ and Chris are a different story. She’s only here because her agreeing made it harder for Dan to disagree. 

At least, that’s what Dan thinks. He was about to say no to the whole idea when Louise said yes, which prompted him to follow suit. Maybe she wasn’t being that thoughtful about it, but it’s too late to worry about that. 

“It helps knowing it if you want to sound like a pretentious asshole who thinks they’re smarter than everyone else, but that’s it,” Dan says. See, he can be normal, participating in a conversation he has no interest in. 

“I feel like that would have been better if you had tried to sound like a pretentious asshole while saying it,” Phil jokes, bumping his shoulder against Dan’s. They’re both laying on the floor, stomach down, with books spread out in front of them, right next to each other. Louise is on Phil’s side, but further away and more off on her than anything else. PJ and Chris are both sitting at the coffee table in the center of the room. 

For the most part they’re all working on different things, only talking to more than one person when they feel like complaining or need help with something. Other than that, PJ and Chris talk to each other, Louise talks to nobody (she really doesn’t have much to say now that she’s not complaining about everything Dan’s doing, but it’s only been getting worse as the days go on), and Dan and Phil are talking to each other. 

“What are you talking about?” Chris remarks. “Dan always sounds like a pretentious asshole.”

“Haha, you’re so funny,” Dan deadpans, looking up from his book to glare at Chris. Chris wears a nasty, condescending smirk on his face. How Dan will ever be truly comfortable around him is a mystery. 

“See what I mean?” Chris is laughing slightly, like he’s being so original and funny, but Dan just rolls his eyes. Looks back down at the textbook in front of him. 

There are a few pages missing from Phil’s, so they’re sharing his, which has brought them only closer physically. A warmth radiates out from the side that’s being touched, the main focus of it being on the shoulder where they are almost squished up together they’re so close. It’s nice, but also distracting. How is supposed to focus on physics when his heart is racing? This must be some sort of punishment for him taking so long to admit that Phil was his friend--that’s the only possible solution. (At least the only one that Dan’s willing to consider right now, because his life is a little too chaotic for him to admit that he might be developing feelings for someone he spent so long trying to convince everyone he hated.)

Louise chimes in and says, “Dan doesn’t only sound like one. He is one.” It’s supposed to be a joke. He can tell that. She says it with a happy tone to her voice, one that tells him exactly that--that he shouldn’t take it seriously. He has tough skin, but Louise is already under it, so her words just pierce straight through his heart. 

“I can feel the love, guys. Really. You’re way too nice to me.” Frustrated. That’s what he sounds like to his own ears. Probably to everyone else’s, too. Fuck. He’s not supposed to let them know how much he can be affected--by Louise, specifically. He’s already had enough karma. 

Phil puts his hand over Dan’s briefly. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Phil looking at him. Something about that has him snapping his mouth shut. Has the warmth spreading all the way from his shoulder to his cheeks. 

“I don’t hate you,” he whispers, quiet enough that only Dan can hear. He can read Dan like no one else can. That’s dangerous, but Dan’s too tongue-tied to think properly, too blinded to realize he should run away now before Phil becomes his downfall. His kryptonite. 

He smiles in response to the words, but doesn’t say anything. The smile threatens to grow bigger with every passing seconds, the words repeating over and over again in his mind, but he thinks of fire--of how it destroys everything in its path but looks so beautiful doing so. Just because the words are coated in sugar and sweet doesn’t mean they can’t be destructive. 

Phil’s touch lit a spark somewhere deep inside of Dan. With his luck, he’s going to blow. Like a fire, burn everything. Turn it into ashes. His touch is chaos in its most beautiful form. 

Everything kind of dies down after that. It doesn’t go into complete silent mode, but it returns to how it was, with people only talking to those closest to them quietly. 

It’s suffocating, to say the least. Everything is so normal. Which is such a broad term, because Dan’s normal is not this, but to them, it couldn’t be closer to the truth. So this being normal is contingent on this being an experience everyone can relate to as such. Either way, it’s too thick to breathe properly. Has him drowning, unable to properly scream for help and be heard over the laughter of everybody else enjoying their time. 

Calming thoughts don’t work anymore. They don’t make him any lighter. Or able to float. They’re in a sinking ship just like him. 

“Remind me why we’re studying,” Dan whispers under his breath. 

“Not everybody can get good grades just by making guesses,” Phil answers, flipping the page. “Plus, it’s what friends do. Help each other study.”

“In the movies, when they say they’re going to study, they either mean they’re going to fuck or just gossip while ignoring their open textbook.”

“Are you saying that we should be having sex right now?”

Dan shoves him, the best he can in the position they’re in. Admittedly, it’s very lame. Phil barely even moves because of it, at least initially. Until he decides to dramatically roll over with a silly smile on his ( _ stupid, beautiful, should be illegal _ ) face, his tongue poking out of the corner. 

“Are you saying that you want to have sex me?”

“You should at least ask me out on a date before you ask me that.”

“We should probably get back to studying.” Which means reading the pages to themselves and then waiting for the other person to be done before flipping to the next one. When they first started studying together, it was more involved, but there’s a point when all you have left to do is skim through key chapters in the textbooks like your teachers told you to do. But it’s the lesser of two evils.

Each second goes by agonizingly slow. The soft tick, tock of the clock in the corner drives him insane. The sound of Phil’s breathing makes it hard for him to focus on anything but Phil ( _ Phil, Phil, Phil _ ) and his overwhelming presence. If he were home right now, he’d be writing, letting his thoughts--his soul, his blood, the very essence of his existence--stain the page. 

His muscles are tense. Everything about him is on edge, but this is what he gets for taking forever to decide whether or not he should jump, for bottling up his emotions until the pressure is too much and spread throughout his body like wildfire. 

He can’t smoke, he can’t burn the memories that are wrapped around his neck (ever since Louise walked in on him, it’s felt too risky and it just makes him feel more on edge than he already felt), and he can’t just set something big on fire and watch as every flicker of orange and yellow color melts away the anger and frustration. The only solace he has now is writing and he can’t even do that right now. 

In simple terms, he’s screwed. He knows it. 

“Is anybody else extremely bored? Because I am,” Chris says, breaking the silence that had settled. “Whose idea was it to study?”

“I’m pretty sure it was PJ’s idea,” Dan responds, rolling his eye. They had supposedly been doing these study sessions since their freshmen year, so why Chris even has to ask that question is beyond him. Maybe it’s different because it’s not just PJ and Chris this year. Who knows. 

“He’s not even studying! He’s just working on the script for his next short film.”

“You have no proof,” PJ says, sounding somewhat defensive. He covers his notebook, which he had been writing in just a few seconds ago, with his open textbook. 

The conversation is light hearted, insignificant. To Dan, however, it’s just further reasoning as to why he needs to leave this town. He isn’t cut out for this simple conversation used to fill the space; he likes joking around just as much as the next guy, but not like this, not in this way. 

He just has to wait until late August before he’ll be able to get away for all of this. He’s going to college in New York--there’s a pretty decent amount of miles between here and there. He’ll be able to focus solely on developing his writing and furthering his career. He just has to get through this. With every passing second, that’s becoming harder and harder for him to do. He’ll be away from everyone though. Louise, Phil, his parents. That’s the scary part that keeps his feet rooted to the ground. Joining in a conversation he has no desire to be in. 

“You literally just covered up your notebook. I think that’s proof enough.” Chris tsks, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“Don’t lie, you’d love to take my pants off.”

“Well, I’m not going to deny it.”

Dan looks at Phil and sighs dramatically. In return, Phil smiles in a way that says  _ what can you do _ , pushing up his mouth so his chin wrinkles and just barely lifting the corners of his barely. 

“If anybody wants to take anybody’s pants off, it’s totally Dan. Just look at the way he looks at Phil,” Louise says. She closes her book and switches from a lying down position to sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her. 

“I know right!” Phil remarks. “I’ve been trying to get him to admit to it for a while now.”

It’s all fun and games. That’s all it is, but even Dan can’t help but notice that Louise only has something to say when it’s a joke about him. If it’s just the two of them, the story is different. And Phil? He’s just the type of guy who tells you afterwards that it was a joke and it meant nothing. 

“Yes, I want to take your pants off and try them on myself. Because I think that they’re just so cool,” Dan deadpans, but his heart is racing. _ Fuck _ . He doesn’t stumble over his words, which is good. 

“I’m done with you guys,” PJ says. “You all suck.”

“You wish,” Chris says and winks. 

It’s entertaining. There’s no denying. There’s also no denying the fact that Dan feels like he’s about to explode. He’s a ticking time bomb, and it’s counting down. 


	26. shut up, I'm about to blow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6,400 words fuck yeah!! (leave nice comments bc i stayed up really late working on this okay)

Apparently, studying does make it easier because Dan finishes his last final with an hour left before school lets out. This is his last day of high school. This is it, and he can’t even process it. Technically, there’s one more day left, but he took his final early for tomorrow, so he doesn’t have to come in at all which means he’s sitting in these chairs for the last time, walking these halls for the last time, doing everything for the last time. 

It’s liberating to be free from school and its constraints. College may allow you to pick your own path, but high school, even with the choices they offer, which tend to be limited, has one path paved for everybody. 

At the same time, however, it feels like he’s just watched  _ The Perks of Being a Wallflower  _ ten times in a row. The movies always had the power to fill him with nostalgia, a feeling that just feels like it’s pulling you down and sinking right along with you. It fills your mind with water and all you can think about is it--about the past and the future that it’s created, how you made these choices and maybe you shouldn’t have. Questions circle around--what if or how come or why--moving too fast for you to catch them. 

High school is where he became more than just a carbon copy of everything around him. He learned more, experienced more, developed into himself. It gave him a sense of individuality, and now--all of the torture associated with it--is being ripped away from him and he’s not ready. Like he developed some sort of love and hate relationship. 

This is where he met Phil and he can’t imagine his life without Phil. But at the end of summer, they’re going their separate ways. Dan to New York, Phil to somewhere. Maybe Penn State or a community college. He has so many choices, but they’re so far away from Dan and the life he’s been dreaming about for as long as he can remember. 

It’s sad to think that he cares more about losing Phil than Louise. Louise who has been his friend for so long and Phil who he’s only been friends with for a matter of months. There used to be this idea in Dan’s mind that Louise was just an until college friend, and the idea took a backseat for awhile. It’s starting to feel like reality and it’s going to be hard to adjust. Dan’s ready, though; he’s had forever to prepare for this. The same cannot be said about his relationship with Phil. 

Phil, the same guy who kept him away from doing the one thing he loved doing the most in the world yet still managed to bring out a smile on Dan’s face. The train comes to a screeching halt when he thinks that and he keeps it stopped. Thoughts like that should be squashed. That’s what he does to them. 

The clock shows that it’s two minutes from the time that he gets out, so he watches the hands move with fascination--does anything to keep himself distracted--and counts down until he’s done. It’s dead silent in the room, an oddity but most likely a result of the weight of the situation. Each sound rings throughout the room loudly--tick tock, tick tock, and then an obnoxious ringing noise as the clock strikes 12:15. 

He gets out of his seat and picks up his pencil and notebook. The door isn’t close enough, which has him walking faster than normal to reach it. The second he passes through it--it feels real. He’s not even out of the school yet, but he’s out of the classroom. Now all that’s left to do is wait for Phil and Louise outside the school, but he has nothing left to do regarding this place. There’s no locker to go to or teacher to talk to. This is it. He swallows, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. 

_ This is it _ , he repeats and opens his eyes.

His feet are on autopilot as he worms his way through the crowds of students and towards the doors that lead outside. Before he realizes it, he’s pushing them open and stepping outside. Breathing in the fresh air. 

This is the perfect weather to set a fire, but the thought is fleeting. For just this second there are no dark storm clouds looming overhead. For just this second he’s happy in the moment. It feels like the proof that he can lead a normal life, the proof that he had been subconsciously waiting for. He’s got it gripped tight in his hands, and he’s not going to let go. 

Louise is already there when he gets to the bottom of the ramp where they had planned to meet. She has one hand in the pocket of her shorts and the other wrapped around her phone. Her attention is elsewhere--she doesn’t notice him. 

“How’d it go?” he asks. His poor attempt at making conversation and the words are too light--they fly away and leave and awkward silence in the air for a few seconds before their strength wears off and has them come crashing down. 

“Pretty good. I’m just glad to be done with them. How’d yours go?”

“Good. Kind of crazy to think that they’re the last finals I’m going to take in high school.” He shrugs. “It’s a weird feeling. I never thought I was going to almost miss this place and I’m not even two steps away from it yet.”

“Yeah. I still remember being in fifth grade and being so scared to go to middle school and now I’m graduating high school in a matter of weeks.”

“Yeah.”

Nostalgia is a weird feeling. It’s hard to describe, but it’s something you just understand. Like the back of your hand. Unlike happiness which is so easy to put into words--joyful, light-hearted, uplifting, feels like you could float away. Nostalgia makes you sink and float at the same time. It’s painful, but enjoyable at the same time. It’s the conversation in the car on your way home from vacation; it’s the old yearbook that you haven’t looked at in years but just stumbled across and opened up; it’s the reuniting of two best friends who have too many memories and not enough time. At the same time, however, it’s the thought of a future you have the power to create right here, right now, in the present. 

It’s the moment and Dan’s swept up in it. In the heaviness of the situation that he surprises himself with how much he can relate to the words that Louise says.

Phil walks up a few seconds later with his hands in his pockets (in that weird Phil way that has to be uncomfortable but yet he’s always _ fucking  _ doing it, which Dan will never understand). His hair is a little messy. Probably ran his fingers through it while he was taking his exams. The top of his shirt are undone. It had been way too hot in most of Dan’s classes, so it’s hardly a surprise at all, but it’s still a shock to his system that has his small smile faltering, his eyes scanning over Phil’s exposed skin ever so quickly and hopefully under the radar. 

But Phil winks and Dan’s not so sure anymore. It’s hard to breathe, hard to think. Dan finds himself winking anyway, without even realizing he’s doing it. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. It’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the feelings that have been building up over the past few months, the feelings that probably started before he was even ready to admit that Phil was decent. Which means he’s been screwed for a long time and he knows it. 

He finds himself thinking,  _ fuck you, Phil _ , but his mind twists the words into something dirty. He burns them like he burns everything else in his life. He’s never been very good at dealing with shit. 

“Are we still going to lunch?” he asks, standing right beside Dan. There is plenty of room for them to spread out, a good foot of distance between Dan and Louise, but Phil’s arm is touching his. His brain short circuits. 

“Yeah, unless you have something else you’d rather do,” Dan responds. 

“Not particularly.”

Louise would normally say something like, “Are you sure you don’t want to do Dan?” At least ever since she stopped being so obnoxious about how much she cares. She always thought she could change him. It kept her from telling his parents that he smoked and it kept her lecturing him even if it wasn’t her business. Now that she doesn’t have that, all she has is her sarcasm, which is something Dan normally appreciates, but Louise has an odd way of showing that she cares if it’s not just him and her. It’s probably better if she keeps her mouth shut, but he misses her voice even though he just heard it. He used to always hear it. 

“I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

“I’m ready.”

He turns to look at Louise who is engrossed in her phone. For a split second, the possibility of her using her phone as an excuse to pretend she’s not listening so they’re free to talk about whatever crosses his mind. It’d be like that one time she had them have lunch alone together, but still watched from afar to make sure they weren’t just sitting there awkwardly eating their food and not talking. 

“Are you ready?” he says.

“Yeah,” she responds, lifting her head up from her phone and offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I was texting my mom because she wanted to know how everything went and stuff.” She shoves her phone in her front pocket and that part of the conversation is dropped like it never happened. 

“Okay, great. My car’s just parked around the corner so we don’t have to go too far,” Phil says. He pulls his keys out of his pocket and twirls them around his finger. There’s only one word to describe the moment. Carefree. 

Phil takes the lead, walking ahead of them so they know where to go. He wasn’t lying when he said his car was right around the corner. Originally the parking places on the side of the building were for staff only, but they opened them up to students after people complained about not being able to get a parking pass because they ran out so fast. Dan’s almost shocked that Phil got one considering he started halfway through the year, but he doesn’t ask. It’s not important and he probably only had to flash his smile at one of the office ladies to get them to give away the last parking pass (which means they had to open up another section of staff parking to students for it to even be a possibility). 

When they get to his car, right before Phil unlocks the door, he says, “It’s kind of a mess. I hope you don’t mind.” 

There’s a sock on the center console, an empty water bottle on the passenger side floor, and a few wrappers in the backseat. The weirdest thing of all is the pepper spray in the driver’s cup holder. 

“My dad wants me to be prepared for anything. He’s convinced that the arsonist is crazy dangerous, and I don’t think he’s completely in the wrong for thinking that so I take pepper spray with me most of the time.” Dan looks up with Phil says this, clearly having seen what Dan was looking at. 

“My parents just freak out about me not going on walks late at night because I might get burned by the arsonist,” Dan says, speaking before he finishes thinking as he takes a seat in the passenger seat. Louise sits in the back. 

For a second, he doesn’t process the words. When he does, it’s a struggle to keep his composure. He knows he’s overreacting for god’s sake. It’s just that it feels like he gave everything away. Louise probably hadn’t put together the pieces yet about how he goes on walks every single time there is a fire, but with everything that happened not too long ago, she’s probably thinking that it’s him all over again. Thinking that she can fix him. She won’t go to the police because she’ll believe she can change him. It’s dangerous no matter what.

He can’t help but catch a glimpse of himself in the side mirror. His face is slightly flushed, his lips pursed, and his eyes a little too wide. His whole posture is on edge, so he takes a second to put a smile on and think happy thoughts. Look down at the ground so he doesn’t look so worried. 

Car rides are weird and better left without talking, so after a few silent minutes, Phil turns on the radio to some rock station that’s playing  _ Teenagers _ by My Chemical Romance. No one talks, but Dan and Phil both sing along--quietly at first, but much more confident as the time goes on. They’re going to eat at McDonald’s because they’re all broke and classy and it’s only a ten minute drive from the school. The next song is one he’s never heard-- _ First _ by some band he’s never heard of but it’s pretty good. He doesn’t know the lyrics, so he closes his eyes and listens. It’s good, but without their singing, it feels too quiet--violent. 

They get there in the middle of the song and it shuts off halfway through, before they can find out the rest of the story that was unfolding. 

Unsurprisingly, the restaurant is packed with other high schoolers. A few that Dan knows--there’s Shayla from his English class, Dennis from his physics class, and even John from pretty much every single class. Even a few people he can’t name are there, but he recognizes their faces from classes and always passing by them in the hallway on the way to certain classes. They’re all faces that he won’t be seeing once summer ends. 

“I didn’t think it would be so packed,” Phil says.  
“Then you’ve obviously never tried to go anywhere in a ten mile radius after finals,” Dan responds, eyeing the menu. 

“I’ve never had a reason to.”

“Well, now you do,” Louise says, putting her arms around both of their shoulders. Her attempt at putting herself in the middle of the conversation. Now she’s the one who has to try. 

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Phil looks at Dan and smiles. Dan can’t help but smile back; it’s hard to resist when Phil looks at him like that--so perfectly. 

Okay, so a few things must be addressed. Dan totally has a crush on Phil and he can’t even remember the last time he had a crush on somebody. He was about ready to admit that he’d believe alone forever. It’s definitely dangerous for Dan to feel this way about somebody. It makes him crazy. Messes up his emotions and has him going back and forth between two extremes. He’s not just screwed--he’s  _ royally _ fucked. 

The line is long and the wait for their food is even longer, so Louise goes in search of an open table while they stand off to the side to wait. 

“Louise used to be so much more vocal,” Phil says after a short lapse in the conversation. 

“Tell me about it.” Dan shakes his head slightly. “I can’t help but think it’s my fault. Ever since we had that fight, she hasn't been the same. I think she’s trying too hard to be better.”

“Or maybe you guys just aren’t meant to be friends anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I like Louise, but hanging out with the both of you together is just . . .”

“Awkward?” Dan asks, thinking back to in front of the school when Louise barely talked. It wouldn’t be too far off.

“Exactly.”

With his next words, he knows he takes a risk, but he cannot help but say, “Then maybe we should hang out alone sometime.” Maybe he’s making this up because of how he feels, but he’s getting the same vibes from Phil. It’s a possibility the feelings are returned, surely. 

“We should.” The corners of Phil’s lips turn upward into a knowing smirk. The implications were clear.

The prospect of leaving isn’t as appealing as it used to be. He’s stuck between wanting to thank Louise and punch her. If it wasn’t for her, they wouldn’t be friends right now, which he doesn’t want to think about. At the same time, it’s going to be harder to go away to college now that he has Phil--who has already told him he’s staying here for college, who gave up on the idea of Penn State when he realized how much this place grew on him. 

They have to make the most of what time they have, but it’s pointless to try for  _ more _ when they have a ticking time bomb held tightly in both of their hands. 

“I’m free whenever.”

“You know where I live.”

His face feels warm. Scratch that. His whole body is hot to the touch, but he can tell his cheeks are rosy now. They both know what’s going on--this isn’t an innocent conversation between two friends. This is a conversation between two people who like each other, who can’t admit it because of what the near future holds. 

Luckily, their order number is called out and they drop their conversation as they get their food and head to the table in the corner that Louise had been able to score. There are two trays, one with the fries on it and the other one with their burgers, so they each grab one and carry it back. They don’t talk. The walk is so short but it feels like forever as Dan’s mind reels--thinking over what just happened. As he struggles to believe that he didn’t just make it up. 

“I hate how they started that whole number thing,” Louise says when they set down the trays and sit down. “It makes getting the food take that much longer.”

“I know right. We had to stand there forever and it’s just three of us,” Dan complains. 

“Seriously. It’s not a high class place; there’s no point. It’s fast food for a reason,” Phil chimes in. 

“How long does it take to heat up some burgers and put them on a bun for fuck’s sake.”

“Apparently it takes forever.” Louise grabs a french fry--shakes her head as she does so. 

There’s not really much else to say, so they fall into a comfortable silence as they eat their food. Dan quickly learns that Phil is weird and has to eat his french fries before his burger because he doesn’t like cold french fries (they don’t even get that cold unless you take two years to eat one sandwich). It’s kind of endearing though, so Dan doesn’t say anything about it. Just watches with fascination at the way he sits with his long legs folded on top of the chair instead of sitting in it like a normal person would. 

“Would any of you like to come over to my house after we’re done? We could hang out and watch tv or something,” Phil says once he’s finished his fries because “god forbid they get cold.”

“Can’t. Sorry. I have to help clean the house because some family is coming down from Minnesota for the weekend,” Louise answers, offering an apologetic smile. “I wish I could though.”

This is it--a chance for them to hang out alone. “I can.”

“Would you want to maybe stay the night?”

Louise looks back and forth between them. Analyzes them, tries to find the hidden meaning in their words. She knows somethings up. She’s catching up and Dan’s almost come to a complete stop. 

“I’d have to ask my parents if I can, but I don’t see why not.” Okay, so Dan hasn’t stayed over at somebody’s house that wasn’t Louise’s in a while and maybe he’s a little nervous because he’s not sure how it’s going to play out at all. 

_ It’s going to be fine _ , he tells himself--repeats the words over and over again like it’s going to help convince them that they’re true.

“Okay.” Phil smiles--teeth showing, tongue sticking out, so bright that he’s going to blind the world. Dan has to look down to stop himself from doing something stupid.

Now that he’s admitted to himself that his feelings for Phil aren’t platonic, it’s quickly becoming harder and harder to keep them under control. The pretty wrapping is coming undone. Maybe he shouldn’t have poked a hole so he could peek inside. 

He quickly sends a text to his mom asking if he can stay the night. 

_ Mom: of course just text me if you need me to pick you up tomorrow.  _

_ Dan: Will do. _

“I can stay the night,” he says and then lets himself smile--big, teeth showing just like Phil’s, though it’s not nearly as bright of a smile as Phil’s. 

“Great. Do you want to go back to your house to get your clothes? You can just wear mine if you don’t care.”

“Whatever works for me.”

“Then you can just wear mine because it’s just easier that way.”

“Perfect,” Dan says. He can tell that Louise has finally put together everything and solved the puzzle. Her face no longer holds the confused look, but one of understanding. He’s not sure if he should be worried or not. Louise wouldn’t tell. That he’s sure of. What she would do, on the other hand, is what makes him so indecisive about it. This is a position he’s never been in. Prior to this, he’s only had two crushes and he can name the both of them, but can’t remember when he started and stopped liking them. There was Allison--she was the first one--and then there was Jake, which happened around the time he was starting to think more about his sexuality. Whenever that was. 

He hasn’t just physically burned memories; he’s turned many of them to ashes metaphorically, too. It’s hard to pinpoint certain things when he’s worked so hard to bury them six feet under the ground. 

Those crushes, however, were fleeting. He never really knew the people--just talked to them every once and awhile in class. He thought they were cute and nice and the feelings developed from there, but it wasn’t hard for him to ignore them. That’s the difference. He can’t ignore the fact that he  _ really likes _ Phil anymore, even though he so badly wants to. 

Phil’s amazing. There’s no denying that, but he’s also dangerous. He can toy with Dan’s emotions without even realizing it, and Phil’s father is after Dan without even knowing it’s him specifically. If Phil finds that out, who is to say how he will react. It probably won’t be positive. That much he can figure out on his own. And it scares him. More than it should.

He keeps quiet, and the conversation dies. Shortly afterwards, they finish eating.

“Hey, Dan, can I talk to you for a moment,” Louise leans over and whispers in his ear. 

“Uh, okay,” he says.

“We’ll be right back,” Louise tells Phil before she’s pulling Dan up and away from the table, towards the kids area and back near the corner there. 

“What?” he asks when they’re far enough away.

“I could ask you the same thing about you and phil and whatever is going on between you two.”

Dan’s face heats up. He can’t look at Louise and her all knowing look, so he averts his eyes. Pretends like he has no clue what she’s going on about. 

“What do you mean? There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yeah, okay.”

What happened to Dan being able to lie? Most of the time, it’s no problem. That’s why he’s been able to get away with setting all of those fires and not getting caught, but suddenly, now that he has a crush, he finally has one thing that the words just falter on his tongue, refusing to come out without him looking away, without his voice changing slightly to show he’s lying. 

He looks back at her. She’s looking at him with sharp, eyes and a smirk that says way too much. There’s no point in hiding. He’s done that enough already--having kept the truth from himself for so long even though he’s known for quite some time now, having just refused to accept what was right in front of his face. 

“Fine, I like him. Okay?” he says, the words spilling out quickly like they can’t stay in any longer. “And I think he likes me back and he’s just been really flirty lately and there’s nothing else to it. I swear.”

“Wow, I knew you two would make great friends. I guess I just didn’t realize how  _ great _ of friends you’d be.” She laughs at her own joke. 

“Shut up.” He hits her slightly. Even though he must admit she has a good point. 

Louise quiets down, stops laughing, and looks at him. “I’m really glad you’ve found somebody who really makes you happy. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile this much in years.”

“Yeah? I’m pretty glad, too.”

“We should probably get back to Phil before he starts wondering what we’re doing,” she says and turns to head back. But not before she adds on, “I hope you have lots of fun with Phil tonight,” and smirks like she’s so cool. 

They’ll probably never go back to being best friends, but it’s nice to share the moment with her. She’s probably always going to understand him more than anybody else. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just the truth. 

“Are you ready to go?” Phil asks when they get back.

“I am,” Dan says.

“Yeah, I should probably get home soon or my parents will start freaking out,” Louise answers. 

Phil stands up and grabs one of the trays while Louise gets the other one. “Okay then. Let’s go.” 

Once they get rid of the trash, they head back to Phil’s car, with Dan in the passenger seat and Louise in the back one again. The ride to Louise’s house is kind of a blur. No one talks, really, except for a few words here and there, none of the music on the radio Dan actually knows and he’s really worried about what’s going to happen tonight. 

He’s being unreasonable, yes, but knowing that isn’t exactly going to make his thoughts stop. He wishes it would.

Before he knows it, they’re pulling up into Louise’s driveway.

“Thanks for the ride!”

“You’re welcome!”

“Bye.”

Phil waits for her to get into the house before backing out of the driveway. It’s quiet for a while, but now it feels awkward. Dan’s on edge, wanting desperately to think of something to say to fill the void. Even with the radio on in the background, it’s not enough. It’s just the two of them now and it’s more than Dan can handle. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your house to get your clothes?” Phil asks, turning to look at him for a quick second before looking back at the road. 

“If you’re fine with me borrowing some of your clothes, then I’m sure,” Dan says, nodding his head. 

“I’m fine with that.”

It’s then that the reality of the situation hits him: he’s going to be wearing Phil’s clothes. That feels like such an intimate and personal experience, even though friends share clothes all the time. At least, Louise says girls do that. He wouldn’t really know, nor did he ever care to know up until now. He could be totally misreading the situation or he could be right. He’s not sure which is worse. 

The drive is short--thank god for that. Because he honestly couldn’t take much more of the quiet, of the tension that built up, begging for one of the doors to be opened so it could be released. 

There’s another car in the driveway when Phil pulls in. 

“My parents are home, but they’ll probably be in the family room most of the time.”

“Okay.”

Dan’s been to Phil’s house before but this feels so much different. He’s not coming just to leave in a few hours. He’s staying the night. He knows he can handle himself, but it’s still going to be difficult. This is something new to him, and he’s never been a big fan of that. 

There’s lighter fluid on the top step up to their front door. Which naturally has Dan interested. He’s resisted the temptation for this long, but it’s hard not to now when this is starting him in the face. He’s always used gasoline because he worried that buying lighter fluid would make him a suspect and his dad always keeps extra gasoline in the shed and never notices when Dan uses it. It’d be nice to use something meant for it, just for once-- _ fire, fire, fire  _ repeating itself over and over again in his mind. His fist loosens just a tiny bit, but he stomps on the thought and clenches his fist harder than before. 

“Yeah, my dad’s been trying to put himself in the mind of a pyromaniac in hopes that it will give in a fresh, new perspective to solve this case so he went out in bought a whole bunch of lighter fluid and he keeps leaving it all over the place,” Phil says, noticing Dan’s stare once again. 

“Interesting. Has it helped so far?” Dan asks, hoping that it’s not too obvious why he’s asking. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure if anything is going to help at this point. Unless the arsonist comes right out and admits to somebody, of course.” 

Of course, that’s not going to happen. He’s not stupid. He breathes a sigh of relief that he hopes Phil can’t hear. Or he’s screwed. 

The living room is exactly the same as he remembers it, something he’s only noticed because he’s desperately trying to find a distraction, anything that will keep his mind steady and stable for what’s ahead of him. 

Why did he have to agree? The idea seemed so good then, but he clearly wasn’t thinking properly. The storm is coming; he can feel it. 

“What do you want to do?” 

“We can just hang out or something.”

“Okay we can go to my room,” Phil says. He walks and Dan follows. 

Phil’s room is, much like his car, messy. Socks litter the floor along with papers and notebooks, pens and pencils scattered all around like he just dumped his backpack on the ground and called it a day, but his bed is made and his desk is clutter free. 

Phil sits down on his bed after shutting the door. It almost feels like Dan should take the desk chair, but they’re closer than that. Surely, Phil sitting down on his bed was invitation for Dan to sit down next to him or he would have gone to the desk chair or something--or maybe he just needs to stop thinking for a second. 

He sits down on the other side of the bed, but they’re still close enough to touch if they wanted to. 

“You know, I’m really glad Louise forced you to befriend me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re a really good friend.”

“Well, I’m glad Louise forced me to befriend you, too.”

They talk about pointless stuff most of the day--about school and finals, family, summer, and so forth. It’s nothing important because it’s all about relaxing, at least that’s what Dan thinks. The conversation is almost non-stop. Which is nice because Dan’s not used to having such a long conversation that just keeps on flowing--he’s not sure if he’ll ever be used to it, to be honest. That doesn’t mean it can’t be a nice feeling. It’s definitely nice not having to worry, just saying what comes to mind and not worrying about how the other person will take it.

For a while, Dan’s not sure why he was ever worried in the first place. Phil makes everything so easy, so simple and carefree. There’s no need to be nervous around him. Dan lets himself relax. Doesn’t notice when his hand unclenches, palm outstretched, letting the piece of reality he had been clinging onto escape. It doesn’t even register until too late, until he has to chase after it in the storm to get it. 

“I really wish you weren’t going away to New York for college,” Phil says at some time past nine o’clock, when the sky has gone dark and the moon has come out. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too,” Dan says, turning to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

At this point, they’re lying on their backs on Phil’s bed, a position they assumed after coming back from dinner (a lovely steak meal that Phil’s dad cooked with loaded twice baked potatoes courtesy of his mom). Dan has his arms behind his head for support and comfort, while Phil has his down by his side, his knees bent and pointing upwards.

“You should just stay. Go to college in state with me. That way you wouldn’t have to miss me and I wouldn’t have to miss you.”

“You know I can’t do that. I’ve had my heart set on New York for so long.” He shakes his head--the thought of staying had been too tempting for it to not creep its way into his mind. 

“I had my heart set on Penn State. I even got accepted, but I wanted to say here. Not necessarily for you, but because I couldn’t bring myself to leave just yet. You could just push New York off for a year or two, get your associates here for cheaper.”

It’s obviously just supposed to be light-hearted, meaningless suggestion, but he’s had too much building up, anger and happiness and all other emotions he’s never been too good at dealing with, that he can’t let it slip through his fingers like nothing.

“Just because you gave up on your dreams doesn’t mean I should have to.”

“I didn’t mean it like--”

“Well that’s what you said!” Dan shouts, his voice rising very quickly. He knows he’s being irrational, but fuck, if it doesn’t feel good to just let it all out for once. He hasn’t been able to set a fire in so long he’s been going insane and it’s showing now. “How else was I supposed to fucking take it!”

“I didn’t think you’d get mad!”

“You basically told me to just forget about my dreams to make you happy!”

“It wasn’t like that!”

Dan sits up and looks at Phil with a cold look on his face. His lips are set in a fine line, his eyes practically shooting lasers at Phil, and to top it all off, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Then what was it like? Did you expect me to agree and then we could hold hands and run off into the sunset? Newsflash, life doesn’t work like that. I already paid the acceptance fee and everything. I’m going to New York.”

“God, I thought you could take a joke!”

“And I thought you knew me better than that!”

Dan breathes heavily and from the looks of it, so does Phil. They’re both glaring at each other at this point. Dan has half a mind to hit him, but keeps his arms to himself. It’s crazy to think that only hours before he was so obsessed with him and now here he is about ready to chew his ear off. 

The storm has it and he’s already fallen off his board so he can’t ride the wave until it’s over. 

“This wasn’t me making fun of you like Louise does. I was just _ fucking _ say that I was going to miss you and you turned into a complete asshole over it.” 

“You completely disregarded my dreams to please yourself. That’s why I’m pissed!” _ That and because I’ve been drowning in my thoughts, unable to do anything to calm myself down _ , he adds in his mind. Words with that much power shouldn’t be allowed to be spoken. 

“How many times do I have to say it was a joke for you to understand that?”

“Fuck off.”

“It’s my house. Why don’t you leave.”

“I will,” Dan says--gets off of his bed and stomps his way over to the door, slamming it shut on his way out of there. His heart is racing as fast as it can, thrumming in his chest loudly, as adrenaline courses through his body; all rational thoughts are gone the instant he walks out into the living room and sees Phil’s mom.

“Are you okay, dear?” 

“Why don’t you ask your fucking son!” he screams and walks out the front door--slamming it closed just like Phil’s. 

For a second, he’s not sure what he’s doing. He doesn’t have a car so he has to walk home, which he’s not exactly looking forward to because it doesn’t give him nearly enough time to calm down.

In the middle of all of these thoughts, he spots the lighter fluid, still sitting out on the step like it was when he got here. Staring at it, all he can think is fire. Destruction. Turning something that was once full of life into ashes and nothing more. He always has a lighter in his pocket, a habit that he picked up from smoking and setting fires, which both required him to have one.

The answer to his question because so obvious. 

Without overthinking it, he grabs the bottle of fluid and runs towards the park where he burned down the swing. It’s dark enough out--enough curtains are closed. He almost thinks he hears someone shouting his name, but he can barely hear over the thumping in his ears, so he just shrugs it off. 

There’s the playground at the park. Old and wooden like everything else there, two seconds from falling over and collapsing in on itself. 

He knows exactly what he’s going to do. 


	27. there's nothing left of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter but fuck yeah i updated twice in one day!!
> 
> plus after the last chapter i felt like a short chapter was needed so i didn't want to draw this out any longer than i already had.

The further he walks, the angrier he gets. If Phil hadn’t meant that, then he shouldn’t have said it. It’s as simple as that. Yet Dan’s still in the wrong. For being too emotional. He had known that Phil had too much power, too much control over him for a while now, but still, he didn’t do anything to stop it. Once he accepted that he was friends with Phil, he stopped trying to distance himself from Phil and they grew closer. 

_ Fuck _ . 

He always carefully plans out his fires, picks times that practically no one is awake and areas that no one will easily spot at first glance. This--this, however, is completely and utterly reckless. The overwhelming urge to be at the center of destruction has taken over him. He wants fire, big and powerful, not small and weak. He needs orange and yellow, hints of red. Flickering flames dancing in the wind. 

Writing was supposed to get him out of this.  _ Not On Fire _ was supposed to take away the desire, shove it in a drawer to be forgotten about. After all, out of sight, out of mind. Yet he is a marionette being controlled by the puppet master. Had fallen into the trap and believed it was a safe haven. But he had been wrong--look where he’s ended up. 

His lighter is heavy in his pocket, but the bottle of lighter fluid is even heavier in his hand. They remind him of his purpose. His destiny that he had been trying so hard to ignore. His future isn’t formed from his choices; his path was picked before he was ever born. Everyone has their own destination in life unique to them. They can’t pick it; they can’t fight it off forever. 

Dan had tried to grasp onto the little shred of normalcy that he could get his hands on before it wound its way around his neck, telling him that he could never have it, but he had been weak. He let one little distraction take over his mind, forcing him to relax and let go. With his palm outstretched, that’s what he did and that’s why he’s here. 

Something isn’t going to get out of this alive. The question is what. 

The sound of his feet hitting the ground fills the air.  _ Thump, thump _ . With each footstep he gets closer and closer to beginning of the end, but he can’t turn around now. Maybe he had mistakenly heard his name. He can’t dwell on that or he really will be screwed.

This is what he gets for playing with fire. For allowing the truth to be dug up right in front of him. For allowing his book to be open, the pages to be read and put on display for the world to see. 

The air is calm with no wind in sight and it’s hot out--just like what you’d expect for a summer night, despite it still being spring. Standing in front of the burning warmth isn’t going to be pleasant, but it’s what he’s going to have to do. Seeing it will calm him. He needs to be calm.

Like he expected, there’s no one at the park when he gets there. It’s completely deserted, so he has nothing to worry about. The playground may not be hidden behind trees but he’s got the darkness of night to cover him--the absence of light. And right now, he’s just cold. The warm parts of him have fled, showcasing the blackened heart they had been covering for, for way too long. He’s not beautiful; he’s just broken. 

Looking at the playground, it’s leaning from, the rotting wood, it’s a wonder no one has done anything to it. He’s doing good. The structure is dangerous. Can’t even support it’s own weight. Getting rid of it is for the best. 

He’s hyperventilating when he twists the cap off of the bottle. His breaths coming in short and shallow and leaving the exact same way. His heart is racing in his chest, his eyes are starting to water. But he can just imagine the fire and how beautiful it will be. The road to getting there might not be, but the end result is worth it. 

Without even taking a second to think about it, he pours the fluid onto the wood, walking around to cover every inch of it before it runs out. Once he’s done, he steps back and gets out his lighter. Runs his finger over the top of it until the flame appears and then brings it to the playground, quickly dropping it as soon as the fire catches on the place. 

There’s shuffling in the distance. He turns his head, but no one is there. He must be going crazy.  _ Shit _ . He throws the empty container into the flames. 

How ironic is it that it was bought to better understand the arsonist and it ends up in the hands of them instead?

The fire is just as mesmerizing as always. Better than his faded memories he told him. You can see all the different swirls of orange and yellow and bits of red, can get lost in the white light of it all. Red hot tips stretch up to the sky, shooting up and into the night. There’s no wind, but the flames are dancing anyway. It’s so beautiful and he can’t look away. The whole thing is swallowed by destruction and soon enough, it becomes too weak and falls in on itself, but the fire doesn’t relent there. It continues to burn away at whatever is left. 

It does the same with his anger. Each second that passes, he can feel another piece of his irritation melt away. His heart slows down and his breathing steadies. His feet are planted firmly in the ground; like a flowering swaying in the wind, he’s at peace. 

He’s so engrossed by it that he hardly registers the sound of footsteps and Phil calling out his name. Doesn’t consciously notice it until Phil’s hand is on his shoulder and he looks over at him. Dan’s heart skips a beat before picking up and returning to the speed it was at only moments before. 

“Dan,” Phil says calming, but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. He’s scared--his voice is slightly shaky. His hand on Dan’s shoulder is meant to be comforting, but to who? It feels like a ten pound weight to Dan.

When he had been caught by Louise burning memories like they meant nothing to him, he had refused to say it isn’t what it looks like, but the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them now. With Louise, he didn’t need to use as many excuses as he could fit in one breath. Now they’re all he has to climb out of the hole he’s dug around himself. 

“I didn’t do it!” he says, almost yelling. The words sound small to his easy; instead of putting up a wall, he put up a breakable piece of glass. Phil can see right through it. Then: “Don’t tell anybody! Please! I’m so sorry, I never meant for you to find out like this or find out at all,  _ fuck _ !”

It’s a wish that a shooting star wouldn’t even give a single thought. That doesn’t keep the words from filling the air between them, painting a sadder and sadder expression on Phil’s face with every word. He should be screaming at Dan right now. After everything Dan said and everything he’s done, but he’s oddly quiet as Dan continues to scream and shout at him, begging him to forget about it. 

The silence is more painful than any words he could say. 

“It’s okay,” Phil says softly. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Dan looks at him--really looks at him. His whole expression is just sad. His eyes are filled with unspilled tears, and his lips are turned downward ever so slightly. Something about it just looks so lost. Never in a million years would he have suspected Dan, no doubt. 

The sight is almost too much. He casts his eyes down and rests his head on Phil’s shoulder, whispers, “Please don’t hate me,” under his breath as he holds back tears. “Please.”

The fire worked too well. Now he’s just sad and can’t fight off the tears forever. It has to rain eventually. So he lets it rain, lets it put out the fire raging inside of him. 

“I could never hate you.” The words are thick and heavy and Phil’s choking on them as he forces them out. “I promise. Just don’t cry. It’s going to be alright. Okay? Just trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.”

“So you’d believe me if I told you that I did what I did because I want the best for you?” he asks--wraps his arm around Dan’s shoulders and rubs his hand up and down Dan’s arm. 

Dan looks up at him through his lashes, an innocent look on his face. It’s such a stark contrast between the person who had been about ready to light the whole world on fire just to watch it burn and admire the beauty of it all. Now he’s just a mess of feelings, trying desperately to cling onto Phil as if that would make all of this go away. Too bad he knows what’s coming for him and it’s not going to be stopped even if he begs for it. 

He could stand in front of a train and it could see him from a mile away, but even slamming on the breaks would still cause it to crash into him and run him over. 

“Do you forgive me?”

“Of course.”

“Then yes.”

If this were a movie, it start raining about now and the fire would die, leaving embers in its wake. Dan and Phil would hug and kiss and Phil would promise not to tell anybody. Would say they could work through this on their own. Nobody had to know. They’d also probably confess their undying love for each other and then there’d be a jump cut to a happier scene.

But this isn’t a movie. This is Dan’s life. He doesn’t get his happy ending--not yet anyway. He can hear the sirens before he sees the cop cars and the fire truck and their bright flashing lights. 

“Phil?”

“Shh, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

It doesn’t feel like it’s going to be okay. His whole world is crashing down around him. His mask is off and he’s exposed. Now he’s just vulnerable. 

The fire is still in front of them, just as powerful as ever, but slowly starting to fall as the wood turns into embers--a sign of a dying fire. It’s still beautiful, even in this state, but it’s also just painful to appreciate it next to Phil. Who didn’t deserve to see this side of Dan, who sees the best in everybody, who is so beautiful himself. Dan doesn’t know where to look. 

When the sirens are finally close enough that he can’t ignore them, that’s where he looks and sees the cop cars pull up with the fire truck right behind them. Phil’s dad steps out, along with a few other guys who he doesn’t know. 

He panics, distances himself from Phil, and opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, trying to think of the perfect words to say. This isn’t a surprise. He knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make dealing with it any easier. 

“Phil, please don’t do this,” Dan says, shaking his head and walking away from Phil. “Please.  _ Please _ !”

“Dan, I’m so sorry. I did this for you! Believe me.”

Before Dan realizes it, he’s being handcuffed and read his rights, but he’s not paying attention to them--he’s looking at Phil, who still looks amazing even with tears running down his face. This is hard for the both of them. He knows that and seeing the hurt on Phil’s face only makes it worse for him. 

While he’s being read his rights, the firefighters hook up the hose and put out the fire, killing its beauty and leaving ashes behind. The playground is nothing more than that--ashes left behind from a fire that got ended way too soon. 

“I’m so sorry,” Phil says, walking right next to him as Phil’s dad brings him to the back of the cop car. “You forgive me, right?”

Dan nods his head, but doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing he can say that will actually have any powerful effect; he’s been stripped bare. His words are failing him and he’s stuck in this situation whether he likes it or not. 

“I’m so sorry.” He keeps repeating those words over and over again until they lose all meaning--until Dan’s being driven away in the back of a cop car.

Life’s like a novel with the end ripped out. He couldn’t have known this was going to happen even if he tried to read ahead, but the question is: would he have done it anyway?


	28. there's too many pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a more freeform approach to how this whole thing would play out--kind of loosely based it off of shows I've watched but twisted it around so it would work with the narrative. Hope you don't mind oops. 
> 
> There are only five chapters left what the fuck ??? And then an epilogue. Also, I'm going to do like five or six little short stories once I'm finished--ranging from chapters told in alternate POVs and optional sequels, if you will. I know a few that I'm definitely going to do, but if you have any ideas for some, feel free to let me know.

The car ride is deadly silent, except for the static of the radio, but the drive is short. Five minutes tops before they’re walking through the doors of the police station, leading a handcuffed Dan to a holding cell. For the night. 

It’s nothing special--concrete, gray paint, bed to sleep on for the night, and a toilet, too. It’s too easy to say that the bed is uncomfortable. Harder than a brick and covered in sheets that feel like plastic. Then again, if you want high class living, you probably shouldn’t put yourself in a position that’ll ultimately lead to jail time. Seriously. Unless, of course, you have enough money to pay yourself out without even getting a pen mark on your permanent record. 

Dan’s is going to be covered in black ink at this rate. How many fires in the past year? He can’t even keep count. There wasn’t that many, but enough that he passed the five marked and dropped his second hand, figuring counting was pointless. Though there’s probably a list of every single one in a file somewhere stuffed away in a desk and being pulled out right now by Phil’s dad to look over the notes. 

In other words, he’s fucked. There’s absolutely no way anyone in their right mind would be able to look everything over and not connect the dots. This wasn’t an isolated incident, and anybody can see that without even looking at the facts. 

Where did he go wrong? The better question would be where didn’t he. Everybody knows bottling up your emotions is a shit way of dealing with them and should never, under any circumstances, be used. Especially when you already have enough anger issues as it it (as demonstrated by your strange love for fire). He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get so close to Phil. Louise was never an issue--had been there for too long to ever truly be one, but Phil was new and that’s dangerous. Something he had known for quite some time which had kept him distant from pretty much every person on the planet, including his own parents. Obviously, his problems started when he decided burning things was cooler. Even cooler if they weren’t his own property. But he had been safe for a while before his facade started to crumble, before his own personal coating of black paint was peeled off, revealing the ugly truth underneath it. 

The only thing he did right was being strategic up until today. That’s all he gots going for him and it’s honestly not much. 

The scary thing is: he doesn’t regret it. Nothing. Not a single damn thing. Especially getting close to Phil. From the very beginning, there had been something about him and the way that he just went about his life with a seemingly permanent smile etched onto his face, faltering rarely and never for long. It’s always been so clear that he just wants to make other people happy with his rather forgiving attitude. As much as Dan had tried to pull away, he was fighting a force stronger than his own. 

He’s staring at the ceiling--something he resorts to whenever bored or lost in thought--his back on the bed, arms under his head. He can’t even pretend to find shapes in the bumps and grooves, can’t humor the idea of normalcy in a jail cell. Normalcy for him, that is. There’s no way to pretend this is his bedroom, freshly painted and rearranged. There’s a smell to it--clean, sterile, despair, loneliness--that he would never find at home.  

His parents are probably being notified right about now. They’re shocked when they see the number that appears, but answer it regardless because they can’t think of any reason why the police station would be calling. They’re even more confused when they’re told their son is currently in a holding cell for the night until they can properly question him in the morning--but they’ll allow it to happen because it’s for the best and then agree to come up after getting some sleep to properly deal with him. After the call cuts off, they’ll cry to each other, asking where did they go wrong, and struggling to wrap their minds around the fact their son had been the arsonist everyone was afraid of. It’s the kind of thing that’ll wreck their relationship once again. 

The lights go out eventually, maybe an hour after he arrived at the latest, but he barely notices it, apart from out of the corner of his eye. It justs so gloomy that taking more light away from it isn’t such an obvious change. That’s just the thing, though--if the change is gradual instead of abrupt, you won’t notice it until it’s too late. 

Sleep finds him in the same way. His eyes start to droop and flutter shut, his breathing evens out, and his heart rate slows down. Then he’s asleep--in a dreamland where everything is fine, for a second he’s not an arsonist and not in a cell; he’s with Phil and they’re talking instead of sleeping, no argument in sight. There’s no catch, no happiness traded in for a shitty ending; it’s just blissful. Too bad dreams don’t last forever. Reality catches up to everybody and doesn’t care who it hurts in the process.

* * *

 

He wakes up to the jingling sound of keys and his cell door being opened.

“Come on,” Phil’s dad says. 

Dan doesn’t ask where they’re going, just stands up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes before blindly following him. Though he has a pretty good idea that they’re heading towards some sort of interrogation room with the glass that looks like a mirror on one side so they can question him about all the fires and such. 

They walk past a few other cells--some empty--before reaching the room. Which is, in fact, exactly what Dan thought it would be, complete with the glass and a table in the center with a chair on each side and nothing else. It looks pretty similar to the inside of his cell, but there’s a camera in the corner. 

“Shouldn’t I have a lawyer present?” Dan asks, sitting down. It feels a little too  _ much _ for the situation, but he can’t think of anything else. This is his mind running on autopilot. 

“If you’d like one, but we’re hoping that won’t be necessary,” Phil’s dad--and he should probably stop referring to him as that, maybe start calling him Mr. Lester instead--answers. He takes his spot directly across from Dan and folds his hands together with his arms resting down on the table. Dan mimics his position, leaning forward a little bit, in an attempt to feel in control, at ease in the situation. It’s futile, and he knows it. 

He’s still not sure what happened: if he took a running start and leaped off of the cliff or if Phil was running so fast that he couldn’t stop in time, ultimately pushing Dan off. Either way, the water’s hot now and everybody’s too close not to find out the truth. 

Dan stays quite. It won’t be necessary--the phrase repeats itself over and over again in his mind. Surely it would be. He’s a minor, but he’s not stupid. They’re going to want to try him as an adult. Without a lawyer by his side he has no chance; he’d be clutching at straws. 

“I talked with Phil,” Mr. Lester says. Dan’s eyes flash over to the camera. Surely, this isn’t professional, talking about your son to the person in question. There’s no indication that it’s recording, but that doesn’t mean anything. 

He knows what he’s doing: he’s searching for any reason not to think of Phil. Phil and the heartbreaking reality that he knows Dan’s ugly secret. Phil and the truth that he let him down. That even Dan offering his hand to help him back up won’t work because Phil can’t trust the hand he’s grabbing. 

He can still remember last night in vivid detail despite being so used to blocking memories he doesn’t like out. This is the worst of them all, but yet, it’s at the front of his mind on loop, the perfect built in torture device because he can’t shut it off. Phil had held him as he cried, had repeated the phrase  _ I’m sorry _ over and over again, and had tried to calm him even after all he had done. He doesn’t deserve someone as nice as Phil Lester. 

“He’s pretty adamant that you’re a good guy,” he continues after only silence from Dan. Coughs once and then twice to clear his throat before adding on, “He really likes you. Told me that to see what I could do to get you the smallest punishment possible for what you did.”

Dan stares at him. Blinks every once and awhile, slowly, his eyes focused mainly on him. He’s almost not processing what he’s saying. Phil still cares for Dan enough  _ to talk to his dad  _ about what’s going to happen to him. He really doesn’t deserve him. In any way. Not as a friend or as a boyfriend. He’s known for a while now that Phil has a good heart, sees the best in people, and wants to bring that out. But  _ this _ ? This is not what he had been expecting. 

“You probably shouldn’t listen to him,” Dan says, finally speaking up. “He sees the world in shades of gray, thinks that you can fall somewhere in between black and white and still be good. He doesn’t realize that sometimes it really is as simple as black and white. Good and bad.”

He knows he’s talking himself out of something that good potentially be great, but you shouldn’t take candy from a stranger. Apparently, you shouldn’t take candy from a friend either when their motives are hidden. The thing is: Dan knows his motives are pure, but they shouldn’t be. Dan should have tarnished his trust, should have burned it the second he saw Dan light the playground on fire, but it’s fireproof apparently. He doesn’t know what to make of that. 

Mr. Lester shakes his head. “My son thinks he knows you enough to know that your intentions were never to be of any harm. He thinks that you just got caught up in the moment and didn’t realize the consequences or at least didn’t think you’d have to face them.”

“Then he doesn’t know me as much as he thinks he does,” Dan lies. Hides how surprised he is at how much Phil knows him--they’ve been friends for a few months, but Dan’s always kept up a wall to some degree. He didn’t realize there was a hole up high large enough to peek through and Phil just happened to be tall enough to do just that. 

“Phil has a good heart, but he doesn’t let his feelings blind him enough to miss the obvious truth. You may not want to admit it, but he knows you a lot better than you think he does.”

Dan leans back in his chair, slumps down and looks back at the camera. He can’t tell if it’s recording or not because he doesn’t know if there should be any indication whatsoever to let him know. He hopes not because his heart is on display right now. 

There’s no point in keeping up this facade. He knows that. So he drops it, watches it shatter like glasses right in front of him and doesn’t bother trying to pick up the pieces and put them back together. They’re too many to even begin. 

“I don’t deserve a friend like him.”

“I can’t say that I don’t agree, but Phil’s been around you more than I have and I trust his opinions. I really do.”

“So what’s going to happen to me?” he asks, turning his gaze back to him. “Are they going to try me as an adult?”

“They wanted to,” Mr. Lester responds. “But I talked to them and they agree to strike up a deal. If you confess to all of the fires, you can avoid court and be sent to a juvenile detention center until a day before your 18th birthday. It’ll go on your permanent record, but that’s all, which is considerably low for a crime of your stature. I guess it helps that you never really burned anything expensive.”

He really doesn’t deserve Phil or this easy of a punishment for something so severe. Even if he didn’t burn anything expensive, arson is a serious crime--he knows that. If it wasn’t, he could have paraded the streets yelling out that it was him, he was the arsonist with no consequences. For some reason, however, it’s here, right in front of him, and it’s wrapped just like normal so he knows it hasn’t been tampered with. It’s too good to pass up. 

“How will it affect my chances of going to college?” He doesn’t need to ask the question to know the answer, but it tumbles out of his mouth before he can shut up and swallow it anyway. New York had been his dream for so long, and he can feel it being painfully ripped away from him as even his strongest grip isn’t enough to get it back. 

“I’m afraid I can’t say for sure, but I’d be surprised if you were able to get into any more reputable ones. Though community college is always an option; that’s what Phil’s doing.”

“Okay . . . and I don’t need a lawyer to agree to this?”

“It would be a waste of their time, but if you want one to talk the deal over with you, you can get one. Though waiting too long might make the DA change their decision; it was hard enough talking them into this one.”

“Okay,” Dan says, nodding. A smile fights its way onto his face, but he challenges it with a frown, leaving him with a neutral expression. He’ll save the screaming and jumping up and down for a more private moment. 

What did he do to deserve someone like Phil? Because being an arsonist surely isn’t the correct answer, and that’s pretty much taken over his life for the past year--though not quite exactly that long. 

“So we have a deal?”

“We do.”

When they shake hands, his soul is officially in Phil’s hands and he owes him everything and more. 

There are a few more details to work out, he’s told on their way out. Like getting him placed in juvenile detention and all that, but the hard parts out of the way and he didn’t even have to do any heavy lifting. Phil did it for him.

* * *

 

His parents are waiting for him in a conference type room--similar to the interrogation room, but with less gray and more white and a longer table with more chairs on each side and one on each end. Phil’s dad still has to stay in the room since Dan is here for a reason, but he stands off to the side in the far back corner of the room. His parents are on one side of the table with him on the other side facing them.

It’s silent for a while; he doesn’t know what to say and his parents just don’t say anything at all. There lack of words speaks volumes, more than anything they say could. Tears fall out of both of their eyes accompanied by a muffled sobbing sound as his mom cries onto his dad’s shoulder. His dad has one armed wrapped around his mom--has placed so many kisses on top of her head just within a few seconds in a comforting gesture. 

His heart aches at the sight. He can’t hide the frown he wears as he faces reality for once; it’s the focal point of this whole masterpiece. No words can mend the cracks and tape back together something that was once almost perfect. 

“I love you,” he says in a pointless attempt at acting like his parents whole world--and their perception of him--has been lit on fire right in front of them. The point is mute. 

His mom looks up and the tears come even faster, the sobbing even louder. 

“Oh, Dan,” she says, her tone sad and sounding choked. “How could you?”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, over and over, and doesn’t bother hiding the tears. “I didn’t mean to let it get this far. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped you,” she cries as his dad rubs her arm and keeps quiet, peppering kisses on her head to calm her. 

_ I didn’t want to hurt you; I didn’t think you’d ever find out; I couldn’t do that to you guys _ \--the words threaten to spill out of his mouth and into the conversation. He holds them back, chokes them down and doesn’t let them wrap around his parents’ neck and pull. It was hard enough with Phil. He can’t handle it again. 

“We love you and we care about you. You should have told us something was wrong,” his dad says. There’s obvious sadness and distress in his voice, but nothing close to his mom’s. His dad has never been very good at handling these situations--has always let her take the lead and pull him along with her. It’s clear that it’s affecting him, but he’s never been too emotional because his parents had drilled it into him and his siblings that emotions were meant for a locked room.

Their relationship has gone right back to square one and he can feel it in the way the tension builds with every second of silence and every word that falls from everyone’s lips. That’s what he gets for fixing it with school glue and tape. Should’ve swept up the broken pieces and started new. Good thing it’s never too late (until it is, of course). 

He looks over at Mr. Lester, who is looking everywhere but at them, clearly trying to give them some privacy, but he knows this conversation isn’t falling on deaf ears. It’s whispered words, or at least quiet ones, but they’re screaming to him. 

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.  _ Please forgive me _ ,” he says, sobbing and letting all of his emotions into the words so they don’t just sound like a copy and paste natural response to the situation. They’re coming from the bottom of his heart and soon he’ll be empty--can only hope they sink in before that. “Don’t hate me.”

He’s spent so long building up this persona where he was tough and emotionless, detached and isolated, but this is who he is and he’s remembering it all over again. He has a heart just like the next guy. It’s time to show it; it’s time to bleed.

“We could  _ never _ hate you,” his mom says or more accurately sobs. “I just can’t believe you . . . my son . . . I just never thought it’d be you. We”--she motions to herself and his dad--“never thought it could be you.”

“ _ I never wanted you to _ .” The words slip out, drenched it emotions but still as light as can be. He’s not sure if he’s trying to tell it to himself or them. He’s not sure if that even matters anymore. Because in the end, he messed up and no words are going to change that. 


	29. there is no monster--only me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to do some basic research on juvy but I couldn’t find too much information and so I decided to just wing it kind of but I was able to find a few things from people who had actually been in juvy so it’s based off of that loosely. I like the way it turned out though so it’s whatever. Also, don’t worry, the next chapter isn’t going to be nearly as slow and boring--i just wanted to include this in bc i thought it would be a nice touch. 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait. I had crazy writer’s block and I was having bad allergies which made focusing on anything really hard and then I started school which makes all of my motivation and more, but hopefully it won’t take me nearly as long to write the next chapter because it’s a lot more dramatic.
> 
> The lovely jasminestardes did some phanart for this fic (to celebrate 100k reads on wattpad) which you can find here: http://jasminestardes.tumblr.com/post/148849278066/congrats-on-100k-reads-alyssa-i-dont-know-what

Dan had always pictured the world as paper thin and flimsy, easy to knock over and easy to burn. It practically screamed destruction. One wrong step at the foundation would crack, the support crumble, and everything would topple over right along with it. That skyscrapers were pretty if you admired, but didn’t touch. 

But he’s been standing on top of a burning one for quite sometime now, trying to decide if the stairs were a better option than just jumping and getting it over with. Instead of someone coming to push him over, Phil came and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him towards the stairs. 

Of course, juvenile detention awaited him at the bottom of them. 

Which is exactly where he is right now--in a building on the opposite side of town filled with people he doesn’t know and probably would never meet otherwise. 

It hadn’t taken them that long to get everything sorted, less than a day, but they had waited to move him until the day afterwards to make sure everything was in order and there would be no problems.

He hasn’t seen Phil since that night. It wasn’t that long ago, but it feels ages ago. Like when you watch a  show as it’s coming out and an episode ends with a cliffhanger and you have to wait a week for the next one. It’s not that long. It goes by pretty quickly, but it feels like forever as you think about what happened and what’s going to happen over and over again. 

The worst part of it all is that he knows Phil doesn’t hate him even though he should. He knows that he owes more to Phil than he’ll ever be able to repay. His heart doesn’t race when he thinks his name. It sinks, weighted down by guilt, disappointment, and emotions he can’t quite name. Emotions that he doesn’t want to think about. 

After years and years of ignoring his feelings and bottling them up, they’re all coming out now, flooding his mind and making it hard for him to stay afloat and breathe. The fire inside of him has been put out. 

He feels the lack of its presence with every step he takes. When he had first arrived, he had been forced to change into an orange jumpsuit--very stereotypical and kind of annoying, for multiple reasons, but he just shrugged and did what they said because he knew if anybody else had done what he did, they wouldn’t have gotten off easy. He watches his feet as he walks, doesn’t dare look at anybody. 

Cells line the walls, two bunk beds in each one. Four people to a cell, but everybody just looks the same. Orange jumpsuits and scowls on the few faces that he dares look at out of the corner of his eye.

The spotlight is on him today, though. He doesn’t have to look to know that the eyes are on him. He’s the arsonist--dressed in orange, how ironic. After living in the shadows for so long, the attention is too much. Never one to consider himself shy, yet that’s what he feels like right now. Without a costume on, he’s just naked and vulnerable. 

“This is where you’ll be,” the guy leading him says, unlocking a cell near the end of the hallway with three other guys in it. His voice is rough, his words short and to the point. There’s nothing friendly about it because he doesn’t deserve pleasantries. 

Dan walks in slowly, though the way everybody is looking at him begs him to speed up, almost shuffles in. When was the last time he felt this out of place somewhere? Probably the first day of kindergarten. He’d say preschool, but his mom was almost always there because she volunteered. But he’s digressing--to avoid the reality of the situation, to pretend like he’s normal, because he realizes that he can’t stop thinking but he can redirect his thoughts. 

The guy slams the door shut afterwards and it’s just him and the other three guys. 

It’s silent for a second--but barely so. Right after Dan takes a seat on the only empty bed--the top bunk on the right side--a guy with a buzzcut and a lip piercing says, “You’re the guy that set all the fires, right?” He’s right across from Dan on the top bunk,  sitting with his legs hanging over the edge. 

The words are so unexpected that Dan just looks at him for a few seconds, mouth slightly ajar. His brain catches up a few moments later, and he mumbles out, “Yes,” and looks up at the ceiling. Notices the bumps and grooves and pretends like he’s a lot calmer than he actually is. 

A part of him feels guilty. These people deserve to be here--there crimes probably don’t compare to his. Yet, he’s here instead of awaiting a trial. And he’s still torn between loving and hating Phil. 

It feels like all their eyes are on him, watching him and tearing him apart. Like they can smell fear.

“No way! That’s so cool,” the same guy says, a smile taking over his face. “I’m Alex. I’m only in here for getting into a few fights--nothing that compares to what you did.”

“Yeah, and I still don’t believe that you could beat someone up. You may look like a bear, but my sister's stuffed animals are scarier than you,” the guy below him says and rolls his eyes. His hair is long and black, covering his eyes, but even from here you can see that his nose is covered in freckles. 

“Says the person who is literally in here for skipping school too many times,” Alex refutes. 

Dan quickly gets lost in the conversation. It’s not moving fast, but he has nothing to contribute and no idea what is really going on. He had thought he was over that whole sit back and relax approach to social interactions, but clearly not. 

The guy in the bunk below him doesn’t say anything either--is probably the quiet one in the group. The other two, however, keep at it--Alex insisting that he used to fight whoever looked at him the wrong way, and the other guy (who Dan quickly finds out is Jake or Jacob if you want to get your throat punched, a lesson that Dan didn’t have to learn the hard way, but Alex clearly did because he didn’t even get halfway through the word before he swallowed them and looked at Jake with a nervous face) saying that he will punch Alex if he keeps being an annoying asshole. 

He had thought he hadn't connected with the people outside, the people living their day to day lives normally, who would grow up to live in houses with big back yards and a white picket fence, but that was nothing compared to how he felt about this. These people had all committed a crime to some degree. They argued like he did with Louise and Phil, but it still seemed off. Not once did they try to include him or explain the context of what was being said. 

“Anyway,” Alex says after ten or so minutes.  Dan, who had dazed off while looking at the wall above Alex’s head, almost jumps at the sudden halt to the conversation and the words that are clearly directed at him. “What was it like knowing that the cops were after you?”

“It wasn’t the funnest thing--I’ll tell you that,” he answers, trying to be nonchalant and let his words be louder than his racing heart. “But I was able to ignore it until I started talking to the son of a cop.” He can’t say the name Phil even though they’d have no idea who that is. The word gets stick in his throat and makes it hard for him to breathe. 

“Is that how you were caught?”

“Yeah,” he says--forces the word out even though it doesn’t want to.  _ Phil, phil, phil _ . It’s like he’s talking about him behind his back, gossiping about how horrible he is, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

He picks at the scratchy blanket on the bed. It’s seen one too many days. It’s covered in stains and a few holes that he sticks fingers in without thinking about it, pulling up at the fabric. Almost daring himself to pull harder until it rips. Until his heart stops feeling heavy and his mind is cleaned out. 

“No shit. That sucks man.”

He nods his head quickly and then lays down on the bed, head on the small white pillow and eyes looking up to a sky that’s hidden from sight.

* * *

 

Alex stops trying to talk to him after that and turns his attention back to Jake. At one point, the guy beneath him pokes his head out and tells him, in a rather loud voice, “Don’t let them fool you; they’re actually together.” He’s sure that’s him trying to make Dan feel more at ease, but it doesn’t help because now he looks at them and sees Phil and himself. That’s even more painful than having to hear them bicker back and forth constantly. The guy might be lying for all he knows. That doesn’t stop the thoughts from taking over.

Phil was so close to him only days ago, but now they feel miles apart. Not just physically, but mentally, too. Dan doesn’t know what he’s thinking, if  _ that night _ is playing itself over and over again in his mind, if he’s waiting until Dan can have visitors so they can talk it through. He doesn’t know. 

_ He doesn’t know _ . The thought repeats itself over and over again in his mind until it no longer makes sense. 

Phil had been the one to help him step out of his comfort zone, to go beyond just showing up and actually try. Now he doesn’t have that, and yet he still can’t let it go. 

He had thought that the part of himself that he had lost was the fire, but it was actually Phil. Phil’s the reason he feels so empty.

* * *

 

After dinner--a meal so bland it’s not even worth mentioning what it was--it’s lights out. In other words, Dan’s in elementary school all over again and his bedtime is at nine o’clock. Sadly, there’s no switch to turn his thoughts off or a safe to put them in before locking it and throwing away the key.

“Will you please shut up,” Jake says in response to Alex’s humming, which only started a few seconds ago, but apparently that was long enough to annoy him. Though it’s probably nothing close to annoyance because apparently the guy--Austin, Dan learned--wasn’t lying when he said they were a thing. Apparently they’ve been in here for about two months now, having came in about the same time. It’s all small details, but to Dan, it’s just further proof that he can’t fit in. They’ve already established relationships, but he’s here and only for a short time no less. (Well, it’s not going to feel that short, that’s for sure, but all things considered, for what he did and just in general, it’s not all that long at all.)

“Please, you love the sound of my voice.”

“You know what I’d love even more right about now?”

“The sound of you shutting up either willingly or by force.”

“Oh, kinky.”

It’s hard blocking out the voices. They’re quiet, but that’s not the point. Dan’s hyperaware of his surroundings now, is in such an unfamiliar setting that it’s hard enough to get comfortable, and the noise on top of that uncomfortable bed is doing little to help. But they’re voices are whispers compared to the screaming thoughts inside his head.

_ Phil, phil, phil _ . What is he thinking right now? He clearly doesn’t hate Dan, or he wouldn’t have helped him out so much. It’s unlikely that he doesn’t have a somewhat negative view of him now, though--he’s not sure he’s ready to dig a hole to the center of the earth yet, so he stops those thoughts and climbs out of the hole. Focuses on other things to keep him distracted--like how he’s going to survive this place. 

Alex and Jake have each other, but Austin (a rather short guy who is thinner than a toothpick and has light blonde hair and dark brown eyes) has no one. They could be friends, but the only problem is that he doesn’t think Austin is looking for friends. It would be too much work to befriend someone who isn’t in the same room as him because of limited interaction, so that leaves him with no one. 

With no one by his side, he’s not sure how he’ll make it through. Even if Louise got on his nerves more often than not, she was always there for him when he needed somebody. Now he has nobody until he can start getting visitors and even then, he’s not sure if he’s ready to face anybody yet. 

He’s not sure if _ they _ ’re ready to look the monster in the face and try to see where it stops and he begins; if they’re ready to accept that the monster and Dan are one in the same. 


	30. I still love you

He’s used to keeping his thoughts to himself under lock and key--has kept them hidden for too long to truly know how to express them. That’s what keeps his mouth zipped shut around his roommates and everybody else. 

When his parents come to visit him, they cry mainly and ask awkward questions in awkward tones and make awkward eye contact as if they’re talking to a stranger as opposed to their own son. Maybe they think they are. Maybe they think that those thoughts he’s kept hidden in his chest, buried underneath his heart, have kept the real him from them. Maybe they’re right. 

Austin doesn’t really warm up to him over the next few days, but they get stuck hanging out with each other because Alex and Jake are lost in their own world most of the time, in that phase where it’s just about each other and everything is so perfect. He doesn’t try to talk to anyone else. Nothing will distract him from where he is; there’s no point in trying.

The days drag on, each one feeling like a week in and of itself. Normally in a situation where he’s this bored he’d dream of fires, of destruction, of being the one powerful enough to create just that, but he can’t think of that without thinking of Phil and _ that night  _ and how everything changed _ so fucking quickly _ . He can’t write, either, for obvious reasons, and even when he tries to focus, trying to write the words in his mind and form something that makes sense, he thinks of Phil and how big of a part he is in Dan’s life, his story. Once he thinks of Phil, that’s all he can think about for a while afterwards. 

Finally, Phil decides to visit--a week into Dan’s stay and an eternity of suffering later. A guard leads Dan into a room, not much different than the rest of the place, and very minimalistic. A glass window separates it from another room where the visitors sit. In each separate stall there’s a phone for talking. Phil’s already there when he sits down. Everything about him is put together from his clothes to his hair, but something feels off in the way he holds his breath before his eyes meet Dan’s. 

Dan picks up the phone just as Phil does, and in a similar manner, too. Slow and calculating. Eyes locked with the other’s. 

Dan’s not sure what to think or to feel. He’s not mad at Phil, just at himself. He knows he overreacted that night, had escalated things too quickly, never stopping to listen to what Phil had to say. The main reason that he did so being that he had bottled up too many emotions and shook them up. And he’s worried that there’s still some fire left in him. 

It’s silent for a second, the sound of static breathing the only thing he can hear on the other line. 

Dan knows he needs to be the first one to speak. He messed up, not Phil, and after everything Phil has done for him, it’s the least he can do. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan says, softly, eyes looking anywhere but Phil. 

“Do you regret it?” Phil asks, and Dan finally meets his piercing blue eyes, which are looking at him so intently he doesn’t know what to think. He’s frozen for a second, before the words register in his brain. Phil doesn’t have to explain what  _ it _ means. 

“I should,” Dan answers. Truthfully. He’s lied for so long--it’s time he stops pretending. He regrets blowing up at Phil, but that’s it. He doesn’t regret doing what he did for so long because it was a coping mechanism. 

“But you don’t?” His silence speaks volumes. “Then you aren’t really sorry.”

Phil looks at him with a soft frown on his face, almost pitying. 

“I wish I was.”

It’s quiet again. They’re both walking on thin ice around each other, worried that one wrong step will cause everything to go to shit again. 

But Dan doesn’t stop looking at Phil. Truly looking at him. His heart thumps uncomfortably in his chest. He _ likes  _ Phil. He really does, but he doesn’t deserve him. That much he knows. He had jumped into the icy waters, and Phil somehow managed to save him. That night when everything had gone wrong, Phil was still there for him, and yet, Dans always been one to run away from new things. But that’s not who Phil is. They say opposites attract, but Phil deserves someone more like him. Someone who has a good heart and a sweet personality. Not someone like Dan--who burns orange and yellow whenever confronted with something he doesn’t like. 

He’s about to express his feelings and thoughts when Phil breaks the silence by saying, “I’m sorry. For not realizing sooner. Mainly, for saying those things. I didn’t mean any harm from them, I swear. But I’m not sorry for calling my dad. You understand why I had to do that, right?”

“You don’t have to be sorry about anything. You did nothing wrong. I’m sorry for blowing up--I never wanted you to see just how ugly I could get.” The words tumble out of his mouth without his permission, too heavy for him to keep them in. A few months ago, he would have never even considered being so open and honest, but he’s beyond that point of his life now. It’s time the wall comes crashing down permanently. “I shouldn’t have taken the joke so seriously. I just . . . I’ve always wanted to get away from here, though that’s not much of a possibility now, is it? And I let my emotions get the best of me. You did nothing wrong.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. I know it was just a joke, but that doesn’t make it okay. I should have known that you would have reacted like that.”

Dan shakes his head lightly, can’t help himself from thinking all over again just how amazing Phil is. 

“Don’t worry about me. It’s been okay here. Nothing to brag about, but I’m definitely not going to die. My roommates are pretty cool, I guess. Two of them--Alex and Jake--are dating, so sometimes they can be a little too much, but Austin is kind of antisocial like me, so we get along pretty well,” Dan says, responding to a question that Phil never asked. It’s so much easier to ignore the conversation that needs to be had then face it head on. He had thought he could do it, but apparently, it’s harder than just saying a few words and moving on. 

“Don’t change the subject. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I care about you, Dan. And I just want to make sure we each know where each other was coming from that night. We both did things we shouldn’t have, but we can’t change the past and we shouldn’t ignore it, either.”

Dan averts his eyes. Phil’s gaze has become too much, so he looks at the chipping white paint on the walls. 

He wants to express how he feels, but he’s not sure how. Emotions have always been something that he buried--a trick he learned from his dad, who never faced feelings head on. But Phil wants to dig those up, even if it takes hours upon hours, days upon days. 

“Why’d you do it?” Dan asks. “Why’d you call your dad?” The question falls from his lips before he can think them through. He wasn’t even aware that he wanted to know the answer himself until just then, but once they’re out in the open, you can’t take them back. Even if you want to. 

He looks back at Phil, tries to offer a friendly smile, but even he can tell it comes out almost menacing, uncomfortable. 

“Because I care about you, and I knew that I couldn’t just wait until somebody else found out for them to do even worse to you.”

“How’d you know I was the arsonist? I mean, just because you saw me--you know, set the one thing on fire . . . didn’t mean that I was _ the one _ .”

“I didn’t, really, but I had a sinking feeling when I saw you that night. I couldn’t even really believe it when _ I saw _ it. For the next night, I kept trying to convince myself it wasn’t you, but eventually, I talked to Louise about it and she opened up about her own suspicions,” Phil answers, looking down briefly. “It’s still hard for me to believe it.”

It’s not surprising to him when he hears that Louise knew ahead of time. Ever since she had walked in on him with a lighter in hand and burning memories, there had been an air between the two of them that followed them whenever they went anywhere together. She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him with sideways glances and curious, calculating stares. 

“Why’d you talk your dad into letting me off so easily?”

Phil pauses, seems to be searching Dan’s eyes for something, anything, before he finally says, “Because I care about you. It wasn’t the hard. I knew enough about the case to know that you never really burned anything worth replacing, so you didn’t really cost the city any money. In fact, you saved them some in certain cases when they were planning to tear it down before you got to it. You might not want to believe it, but you’re not a bad guy, even if you have made mistakes.”

“I don’t deserve a friend as nice as you.”

“Don’t say that!” Phil snaps quietly, shaking his head quickly and almost aggressively. “You don’t realize just how amazing you are, but I do and I am so lucky to just have you as a friend.”

“You don’t have to pretend. If I were as amazing as you say, I wouldn’t be here right now and we wouldn’t be talking through phones despite sitting so close, separated by a glass window.”

“Stop bringing yourself down,” Phil demands. 

“It’s the truth.” Before he can stop himself, Dan says, “Deep down, you know it. That’s why it took you so long to come and see me.” He wants to eat the words as soon as he says them, but he can’t. They’ve scattered in the air and are now trying to suffocate him. 

Phil takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, before opening them and staring straight at Dan. 

“Don’t say that. I only waited a little bit because I wanted to give you time to cool off.”

“Why? Why do you insist are being so nice and thoughtful after all I’ve done?”

“I’m so tired of you putting yourself down! You may not see it, but you are so awesome and I am so lucky to be able to call myself your friend! That’s why I’m so nice to you. Because _ I love you  _ and I don’t want to lose you. Okay? It took you so long to warm up to me, and I’m afraid that it will be too easy to lose you. I care about you. What you see as being nice, I see as just doing what you deserve. _ I love you _ . Okay?”

Dan doesn’t know how to respond. This what not what he had been expecting. His heart beats loudly in his chest, thumping uncontrollably. He can’t process what Phil’s just said, but he also can’t stop staring at Phil--who looks so forceful for once in his life, like he won’t take no for an answer. 

When Dan doesn’t say anything, Phil continues, “Do you know how hard it has been for me these past few days? Knowing that you’re in here because of me? Do you know how much that sucks?” Phil shakes his head. “Of course you don’t. Because you think that everyone just secretly hates you and don’t even stop to consider the fact that we wouldn’t be hanging out with you if we didn’t at least like you to some extent. Yes, you messed up big time, but we all make mistakes--not necessarily the kind of mistakes that you made--but that doesn’t matter. No one expects you to be perfect except for yourself. I knew going into this friendship that you weren’t the nicest person, but through getting to know you, I’ve learned there’s a lot more to you than what meets the eye.  _ I love you, _ Dan, and nothing you say is going to change that.”

Dan doesn’t say anything, just looks at Phil and lets the small smile--a mix between happy and sad--take over his face. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don’t know if Phil would actually be allowed to visit Dan, but considering a few things that have happened so far definitely wouldn’t happen irl--such as Dan getting such a lenient punishment, but let’s just ignore that because I think having Dan only go to juvie works so much better for the plot okay--I figured it wouldn’t be much of a big deal, and I felt like it was important for their meeting to be while Dan was still in juvie so 1) all that would be out of the way when he’s finally released and 2) that way there’s no way for either of them to ignore what happened or paint the memory pretty colors like it wasn’t as dark as it was. Hope you don’t mind!)


	31. it's hard not to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may be wondering--Alyssa, why did it take you so long to update? Well, the answer is that I'm a piece of shit. Shortly after I posted the last chapter, I started working (there's this older lady who started working at the same time as me and she just has this really cute british accent and she's so precious like i lowkey hate my job but she's just so nice), so I've been busy with that, but I also had time when I wasn't working that I could have been working on this. I just didn't have the motivation to put it simply.
> 
> Four chapters and an epilogue left!!

It’s hard not to hear the whispers. They were quiet at first, undetectable--faint noises in the background that he didn’t even pay attention to whatsoever. But now they’re louder, the people more confident that he doesn’t have a lighter hidden away somewhere-- _ ever wonder why he got such a lenient sentence? Rumor has it he fucked the chief’s son.  _ Not all of it’s bad, some just facts--that he burned a bunch of places and got off practically scot-free--but it’s often sneered, a hateful look on the person’s face. 

It’s got even worse now. Has spread like wildfire from a small few to almost everybody. Not even his roommates are safe territory now. Everywhere he goes he gets weird looks and murmurs follow his every move. 

He doesn’t fit in with the outcasts and he sure as hell doesn’t fit in with the rest either. 

He spends most of his time--like right now--in his bed, scribbling away on whatever piece of paper he can get a guard to give him, writing down pieces of his story that don’t quite have a place yet. But his head is brimming with ideas, finding motivation in the sheer fact that he has nothing else to do except this. No way to smoke or light a fire. No way to just escape for a second or two. 

His roommates provide little solace. 

The only person to blame is himself. He got himself into this situation by digging a hole and thinking it was a good idea to jump right in, and if climbing out means getting dirt under his nails, so be it. 

But that doesn’t stop him from keeping a count-down in his head until he can finally get out--at this point, three weeks and four days. His parents have visited a few different times, but Phil hasn’t come back since then. With his parents, slow progress is being made--the first time they came here, they were quiet almost the whole time, little words being exchanged, but little by little, visit by visit, they’ve started talking more. They still haven’t addressed what happened, not since that night in the police station. But they did tell him the last time they came that Louise would be coming soon, and he’s been on edge ever since. 

What would she say? She had been the one to walk in on him with a lighter in his hand as he burned memories he wished he didn’t have. She had been given more clues than anybody, but Phil had been the one to piece them together without even trying. It’s too hard to think about but the thoughts refuse to leave. They weigh heavy on his chest since he has no one to talk to. Despite being surrounded by his roommates. 

Alex and Jake are sitting on the bottom bunk, huddled together and talking so no one can hear them. Austin is in his bed, saying nothing. Every so often, Alex looks up at Dan, offers a small smile, but Jake just turns to look at Dan and glares whenever this happens. He just smiles right back and acts as if everything is right in the world even though it clearly isn’t.

He’d talk to Austin, but he’s more of a lone wolf, which is more apparent than anything else about him. Plus he’s pretty sure he’s not exactly the happiest with him, either, if him taking every opportunity to distance himself from Dan is any indication. 

He’s become an outcast among the outcasts. Nobody thinks what he did is cool anymore, and he’s not exactly sure that’s a bad thing. He misses it--definitely--but he knew it had to stop sooner or later. He couldn’t live his whole life living in fear of being caught and needed that push of getting in trouble to finally see the other side. That toying with fire doesn’t make him powerful; it makes him a criminal. 

He’s on top of his bed, scribbling away on a piece of paper he was able to get from a guard in the morning. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to write in here, but the words have yet to stop flowing. He’s not even writing about what’s going on now, but getting caught up with everything that’s happened since the last thing he wrote. Typically, he doesn’t like reliving memories, but this is oddly therapeutic, even though he can see every mistake he made clearly now. 

He’s in this position, lost in thought, when the door opens and a guard steps in and says, “Dan, a girl named Louise is here to visit you.”

Everyone in the room perks up a that. Austin sticks his head out from his bed and peers up at Dan, with an unreadable expression on his face. Alex’s smile falters for just a second, before he plasters it back on as if nothing happened, but Jake’s frown deepens into a scowl and he rolls his eyes. 

Hesitantly and avoiding everyone’s eyes, Dan climbs down, but not before tucking his pencil and paper underneath his pillow. He follows the guard in the same shy manner all the way to where visitations are held. 

Sure enough, Louise is sitting on the other side of the window, looking out of place. He slows down his pace once the door is shut behind him until he can no longer put off sitting down. 

He grabs the phone off the wall only after she’s done the same and then listens to the soft sound of her breathing on the other line. He doesn’t hesitate to say sorry this time. 

“You know, you don’t have to apologize to me. I’m not your parents” Louise says, as if she hasn’t spent months acting as if she was, but he doesn’t want to start a fight.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t feel sorry for what I’ve done. I really messed up.” And maybe he isn’t really sorry in the traditional sense, as Phil pointed out, but he feels guilty, overwhelmingly so. “I should have told you something was wrong. You were my best friend,” he continues, tries not to stumble over the word  _ were _ . 

Louise shakes her head, opens and closes her mouth a few times, before whispering, “I knew; you didn’t have to tell me anything,” under her breath. 

“No, I--” he starts, before finally catching up to what she said. He had known he hadn’t exactly been as good at hiding it as he would have hoped, but he didn’t think she had ever figured it out. The only reason Phil had was because he had followed Dan at the wrong time, but Louise--she just walked in and saw something a little suspicious. 

But then it occurs to him--she knew and didn’t tell anyone. _ She must of thought she could fix him without the help of the police _ . He doesn’t know how to respond, so he shuts his mouth and stares at her with wide eyes, waiting for her to continue. 

Clearly knowing what he’s expecting, she continues, “Well, I didn’t exactly know, but I had a lot of suspicions. For a while now; I don’t know quite how long, but it became too much to ignore when I saw you that day in your room.” She pauses, must not be able to say what happened, can’t actually address the situation, just like his parents can’t. “I just thought--you’re my friend. I can help you, but I couldn’t help you, could I? I thought maybe if you told me, then I could, but you wouldn’t let me in by yourself, so I tried bringing you to the swing in hopes it would all come out, but it didn’t. And then I started to think that maybe you hadn’t been what I thought, but deep down, I knew and I didn’t even try as hard as I could have to help.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. It seems he almost never does these days, so he looks at her, eyes unwavering for a few seconds, as he scans over her appearance: the slight frown on her face, her arms on the table, her hands clasped together. 

He knows he needs to say something, but what? What can he say that will make her feel better? He can think of a few things, but he sure they won’t work. Though it doesn’t hurt to try, right?

“It wasn’t your fault. You were just doing what you thought was right for me.”

She shakes her head. “No, you don’t understand. I was doing this for myself because I wanted the satisfaction of being able to help you. God, I was such a shitty best friend.”

“No, I was. I didn’t appreciate all the help you tried to give.”

“Is it really help if it comes from a place of selfishness?”

“I guess not.”

It’s back to quiet between the two of them, but now, Dan’s struggling to string together a complete thought, so lost in her words and what just happened between the two of them and the fact that they’ve both agreed they’re just friends now. It feels like that conversation is over, like the wound has been stitched and speaking about it anymore will only cause the wound to be reopened. 

He hears her breathing over the phone again, a soft reminder that this is happening and it’s real and his life is so different now than it was a few months ago. But he misses something about it all, so he changes the conversation.

“How do you know if a person means they love you romantically when they say it?” he asks, eyes looking anywhere but at Louise. 

“I guess it depends on how they say it, if they say it with more emotion behind it or just casually. But I’d hardly say I’m an expert as I’ve never been in a relationship,” she responds, giving him a curious look. “Why?”

The words don’t want to come out, but as he feels the blood rushing to his face, he doesn’t pause to let himself talk him out of it. 

“I really like Phil, and he said he loved me when he visited and I just . . . I don’t know if he meant it like a friend or not and I don’t know. I really like him, though,” Dan answers, blushing. 

Louise doesn’t say anything about how she’s a great matchmaker or how she knew this was going to happen all along, which he’s thankful for. She just lets the small smile grow on her face and she looks at him with sincerity in her eyes and says, “ _ Trust me _ when I say he definitely doesn’t just want to be friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“Anybody looking from a mile away can clearly see that he has feelings for you. Well, I guess not you, but anybody else who isn’t oblivious.”

They talk for a while after that, about small things like what Dan’s going to do instead of going to college and how other people will act around him now that all of this has happened, but Dan feels happy for once, so he doesn’t even care. 

But the euphoria that came over him when they were talking is short lived as soon enough, he’s being walked back into his room, where he’s once again all alone and without anyone to talk to. 

“Must be nice to have people who care about you,” Jake says in a sneer as soon as the door is slammed shut. “Always having to leave because you have visitors. Getting out in a few weeks because you’ve got connections.”

Dan just ignores him and goes right on up to his bed, where he grabs his paper and his pencil and starts writing again, focusing on the fact that he only does have a few weeks left to get him through this because lord knows nothing else will do the charm. 

A weight had definitely been lifted off of his shoulders after talking to Louise, but he can feel it slowly being placed back on as he sits in a room full of tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. 

Three weeks. Four days. Yet it feels like it’s going to be an eternity. 


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to bother saying that this is a short chapter because more often than not, my chapters are short (though this one is even shorter than normal) but i didn't want to stretch it out and make it boring. However, never fear, the chapter where Dan gets out will definitely be long (for me) because a lot of shit has to happen and all that jazz. This is a filler anyway, so let's pretend like that excuses the shortness.

There is nothing more awkward than sitting across from your parents, their eyes boring into yours, and having nothing to say. Or at least, that’s what it feels like to Dan right now. The fact that they know he’s the arsonist that the whole town was concerned over certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the fact that they haven’t quite dealt with it yet despite the time they’ve had. Nor the ticking time bomb looming overhead, reminding them that he’s getting out soon and he’ll be expected to go back to living a “normal” life after this. 

He should be used to this. He really should. How long has he been in here already? A few weeks too long for a lull in the conversation to fill up almost the entire one hour they get.

They had been on the right path in the police station immediately following the rather abrupt coming out, but juvie reset the clock back to moments after it had happened, had taken words out of all of their mouths and ripped them from their memories, making their conversations unbearably painful to sit through. 

It had gotten so bad that he actually started to feel bad for the guards. Somewhat.

Today it’s even worse. The future isn’t far enough away frot it to not feel like a heavy weight on his chest. So heavy that it blocks his air ways and prevents him from talking properly.

“So . . .” he says into the phone, drawing out the wound to fill the emptiness of the room, as he looks at them through the glass that keeps him from being able to wrap his arms around them. His mom’s smile tightens and she looks ten years older from all the worry lines on her face. His dad only stares, eyes unfocused, like it hurts him to look at Dan. To confront the situation.

Dan could say sorry--could let the words spill from his lips like a waterfall, but a dam has been built, keeping the water from doing as it should, keeping his lips sealed even though he should have too much to say and not enough time. Instead, the words have just dried up. No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t force the words to break through the dam, not when they’re so weak. And he’s exhausted all his energy in just surviving ever since  _ that night _ that he can’t muster up the strength to push harder. 

What happened to the past? When they used to constantly hound Dan, asking questions he wasn’t prepared to give answers to? Now, they’re lips are as sealed as the one secret Dan had once kept so close to his heart. 

He wants to remind him that he loves him and he’s still their son, but he fears that those words will be just another band-aid on a bullet hole. Yet, he says them anyway, in a hushed, tentative voice, adding on, “You can still talk to me,” at the end of it, as if that’s the reason they aren’t talking to him anymore. 

“Oh, Dan, we never stopped loving you,” his mom cries out, letting the tears that had been building up in her eyes finally go. “We just . . . we just . . . well, we just weren’t sure if you’d want to hear that after everything that happened.”

“Why?” Dan asks, can’t stop the question from coming out. 

“Because for a while, you didn’t want us around, and we thought that us finding this out might bring you back to that time, Dan.” He can’t deny the truth, so he doesn’t even try, only turns to his dad for confirmation. He had thought they had worked through that already, had already jumped over that hurdle. His dad only nods.

“For so long, it was like you wanted to ignore the fact that you had parents, and now that we kind of understand why, we thought that you would get cagey again and we shouldn’t have,” his dad responds, an almost somber look on his face. “And we know how you get when we push, so we didn’t push this time.”

Dan can’t say anything. He knows they’re just being honest and reasonable and he never used to be either of those two things. He figures it’s time he starts trying to be, though. 

“I know . . . for the longest time, i wasn’t the best son, but I promise that I’m over that. . . . And I don’t ever want to go back to that. I was at a very dark time then and I treated everybody I knew terribly. I want to make up for that.”

He looks both of them in the eye, first his dad and then his mom, offering them each a small smile. They both smile back. 

“Oh, honey, you’ve already made up for it. We’re just being over-worried is all. You don’t have to explain yourself,” his mom says, no longer crying out of sadness, but what appears to be tears of joy if the look on her face is anything to go off of. 

“Your mother’s right, son: We forgave you long ago, and nothing is going to change that.”

Now he’s the one with tears welling up in his eyes. Even after all the times he’s treated them like crap, his parents are still there him and so understanding. It doesn’t matter that they say they’ve forgiven him, however, because he still feels like he owes them a part of his soul. So he knows what he has to do.

He starts with answering questions they never asked: “I started during the fall. But you probably already know that. The wooden swing set at the old park--that was how it all started. And the news covered it. At first, I was nervous that I would get caught, but as the time went on, I became more confident in myself. I’m not sure what led me to do it in the first place, but I’ve always been fascinated with fire. That time, in the fall, was a very dark time for me. Not for any particular reason, but I just sort of came undone. Mentally, that is. 

“I didn’t tell anyone because I knew no one would understand. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but doing it, for some reason, relieved all of my stress. I guess it was my version of going to the spa. I don’t know, but once I started I couldn’t stop. Then again, I didn’t really try.”

Now that the water has rushed through and broken the dam, the waterfall has started and he can’t stop the words from spilling out. His parents listen intently throughout his whole speech.

“Not until Phil came around, anyway. He made me want to be a better person, which is when the fires randomly stopped. But I lost control that night after getting into a fight with him, and it all came crashing down around me.”

By the time he’s finished talking, ending it with an _ I’m sorry _ , the first--and the second, third, and fourth--tear has already dropped. He has opened up his heart and let it all spill out; now he’s laid out his secrets and shined a light on them for the world to see. 

“I’m not going to say you have no reason to be sorry, because you do,” his mom says, “but you can’t put the blame all on yourself. If we had been better parents, if we hadn’t pried so hard and just realized that keeping secrets was a normal teenager thing, well, who knows what might have happened.”

“Of course,” his dad chips in, “it’s not normal for the secret that they’re keeping to be that they’re an arsonist, but we can look past that if you can.”

It’s silent for a while after that. Everything has been said. The silence is no longer suffocating, but rather comfortable. They have no secrets to keep. They’re no longer hesitant around each other.

Then his dad has to ruin it by saying, “So Phil?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dan responds, a blush taking over his cheeks. So maybe, Dan does have one secret he’s keeping. Though apparently, he’s not doing a very good job because everybody seems to know. 

His mom looks at him knowingly. “He seems like a very nice kid. I like him.”

His dad nods. “He has my seal of approval for sure. Anybody who can make you want to be a better person without having to hassle you is a keeper, for sure.”

“I hate you guys so much,” Dan says, hanging up the phone and hiding his face in his hands, eyes closed in embarrassment. He can almost hear them laughing on the other side. 


	33. happy birthday to the new you

Your eighteenth birthday is supposed to feel monumental. You are officially an adult. No longer held back by the chains of childhood and being a teenager. You’re free. And for Dan, he is free in more ways than just the figurative my-parents-can’t-control-me-anymore sense. So why does it feel so nerve-wracking? Like his stomach is in his throat? Butterflies in his stomach can’t even begin to explain it, and he still has a day to go. 

The day before his eighteenth birthday, he wakes up to the sound of keys rattling, a door opening, and a guard telling him he gets to leave. He goes without saying goodbye, but can feel the eyes of everyone on him, their jealousy burning him more than any fire ever did. His parents greet him on the other side with happy expressions and he fakes a smile, but all throughout the drive home, he feels broken. A shell of who he used to be. 

They don’t talk, not that there is anything to say. They’ve stitched up the bullet hole, but the wound hasn’t quite yet healed. All that they can do now is wrap it in gauze and clean it every so often so it doesn’t get worse, only better. 

Phil’s sitting in front of his door when he gets home, a welcoming, soft smile on his face. 

“We’ll go so you guys can talk,” his mom says right before they get out of the car. His dad nods.

He stays in the car for a few minutes after they’ve gone inside the house, unsure what to say to Phil. They ended their last conversation on good terms, but they also practically confessed their feelings for each other without specifically saying that they meant it in a romantic sense and just the thought of what could be has his hands clamming up. He finally gets out once he realizes that he’s only making it worse by waiting--now Phil definitely knows something is up with him. 

So he puts on a fake smile once again and sits down next to Phil, who quickly says, “Do you want to go somewhere else to talk?”

Dan thought he would be over the moon to see the walls of his room once again, but suddenly, the idea just doesn’t seem the same anymore. Too many bad memories . . . bad associations in that room for him to face them just right now. He knows he will eventually, but right now he wants to go with Phil, to hear what he has to say and hope that isn’t as bad as worst case scenario--like Phil randomly deciding that Dan has too much baggage for even a friendship, and definitely nothing more, to work. Not that he believes that will happen, but he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t care and when you care about someone, sometimes even the most unrealistic ways you might lose them worry you. 

He nods his head after a few seconds.

“Then let’s go,” Phil says, offering up a secretive smile. 

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere quiet where we can talk,” he responds with an almost  _ too happy _ tone to his voice as he stands up and holds out his hand to pull Dan up. Before Dan can say anything else, he adds, “You’ll see.”

Phil doesn’t let go of Dan’s hand as they walk the short walk to his car. He opens Dan’s door before finally dropping his hand to walk around to the driver’s side. He turns the car on, cranks up the radio, flashes a smile at Dan, and then they’re off. They save the talking for where they’re going. 

It doesn’t take him long to figure out where exactly that is. Somewhere where the only interruption is the sound of the current beating against the riverbed. 

“Why here?”

“Because you seem to be more open when you’re here, less carefree and more talkative.”

“You’ve only ever been here once with me.”

“And you talked more about your thoughts then, then you ever have before.”

Dan doesn’t say anything else. This time when he smiles, it’s for real. He can’t remember when the butterflies stopped flying around, but he can’t feel them anymore. And he’s sure it has everything to do with Phil. 

But he still hesitates getting out of the car, part of him eager to find out what Phil wants to talk about and part of him dreading what could come out of the whole situation. Despite his hesitation, he gets out as soon as Phil parks. Nor does it stop him from following Phil to the spot they had stood at previously, discussing life. 

The water stretches out in front of them, gently beating against the edges as the current pushed it forward. It’s even more chaotic out this time around--with the dog park not too far away and the playground a short distance from that. But the sounds barely even register in the background as Dan’s focused on Phil and solely Phil and the silence that envelops them.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Dan asks, breaking the silence, the curiosity getting the better of him. 

“I just wanted to talk. Is that so bad?” Phil responds serenely, looking out at the river, seemingly oblivious to Dan’s stare. 

“No, I just thought you had something specific you wanted to talk about.”

“I do, but right now, I just want to talk.” Phil flashes a smile at Dan before turning to look back at the murky blue water. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you more. I figured you needed your space.”

“It’s okay. . . .” Dan says in an almost whisper like the words aren’t sure that they want to come out. “I kind of did. It gave me some time to think.”

“About what?”

_ About you. _ The thought falls on deaf ears though, because Dan can’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he turns to look at the water and grips onto the railing. Even more paint has peeled off since that last time he was here, and now it’s almost naked. Subconsciously, he picks at the paint, taking even more off, while finally working up the courage to say, “About us.”

It’s silent for a second. He can see Phil turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t immediately look away, though. No, this time, he openly stares at Dan, analyzing him in a way. 

“About us?” Phil questions, causing Dan to blush further. 

“Don’t make me explain.”

“Explain what?”

There’s been one thing nagging Dan since he talked to Phil last, and it’s been there, subconsciously, ever since. This is his chance to get answers, but his mouth has dried up. He can’t talk, no matter how much he wants to.  _ What did Phil mean when he said he loved Dan? Did he mean I love you as a friend or I love you as something so much more?  _ Dan’s not sure, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t considering torturing himself by never finding out just to save him from getting embarrassed. 

Phil’s still looking at him, waiting for an answer that isn’t coming anytime soon.

“It’s nothing, really,” Dan answers, trying to change the subject. 

“ _ Dan _ ,” Phil says, pleading, “please don’t try and keep me out again. I love you.”

The words spill out uncontrollably once he hears Phil utter those three words. “What do you mean when you say that?”

“When I say what?”

The words  _ don’t be stupid _ threaten to come out, but Dan swallows them. He’s past that part of his life; he doesn’t have to hide behind mean words just to keep people out. It’s time he lets them in. 

“When you say that you love me,” Dan mumbles, and he can feel the blood rushing to his face as it heats up, can only imagine how red he must be right now. 

“Oh, oh, _ oooh _ ,” Phil says, realization dawning. “I’m sorry. I thought it was obvious when I said it that I meant it as _ more _ than a friend.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Dan huffs, trying to ignore the blush. “But, uh, I love you as more than a friend, too.” 

He looks back down at the section of the railing he had been picking at. It’s completely bare now. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Shortly after that, they both sit down on the grass, their hands right next to each other, and at some point, Dan works up the courage to scoot his hand ever closer to Phil’s in the hope that he’ll grab his hand. And he does, without saying anything, but a smile spreads across Dan’s face. When he looks over, he sees the same expression on Phil’s face, and Dan’s smile only grows at the sight. 

It isn’t until minutes of comfortable silence that he remembers Phil brought him here for a reason. As soon as he does though, he asks, “What is it that you wanted to talk about anyway?”

“I wanted to ask you on a date,” Phil responds nonchalantly. 

“Oh,” Dan whispers, and inwardly curses the blush that still manages to grow ever darker. 

“Yeah. So will you go on a date with me?”

_ Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times yes.  _ “Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Phil squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back, doesn’t try to hide the huge smile on his face as he looks out at the serene water and remembers the first time he met Phil and how far he’s come since then. 

They don’t talk for a while after that, but Dan doesn’t mind. It feels nice. Normal, and this time around, he doesn’t want to run away. Instead, he wants to embrace it. Nothing has ever felt more perfect than this moment, right here, right now, and he’s sure of it. 

* * *

When he gets home, he can’t wipe the smile off his face. His parents are in the living room watching television, but their attention quickly switches to him.

“How’d it go?” his mom asks, as if the answer isn’t clear on his face.

“Perfect. It went perfectly,” he responds. He hesitates for a second, unsure if he wants to continue, but he does anyway, tired of overthinking everything. “Phil and I are going on a date.”

“When?” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “We didn’t get that far yet.”

“Well, just make sure he knows that he has to get my approval before you guys are going on any date,” his dad says, trying to sound like the stereotypical dad, but it fails. He already approves of Phil, and they both know it.

“Okay,” Dan jokes, “I will.”

Once his parents have gone back to watching their show, he heads to his room, and even the daunting idea of stepping foot in there for the first time in a while isn’t that daunting anymore. Still, he can’t help but pause outside his door, hand hovering over the door knob. Then he remembers Phil, and he twists the knob and pushes open the door without even thinking about it. 

It’s exactly as he left it, bed unmade and clothes left out that need to be put out. Completely untouched, like his parents couldn’t find it in themselves to go in here with him gone. He walks over to where he stored his lighter without even thinking and grabs it. Just holding it in his hand feels foreign, as if it belonged to a different person. In many ways, it did. He knows he’s changed now. Fire will always be beautiful, but he doesn’t need to burn things just to feel the warmth it provides. 

He holds the lighter in his hand and moves his thumb across the top to light it, but looking at the small flame it admits does nothing anymore. That night, he burned more than just a playground that night; he burned a part of himself that he’ll never get back. He doesn’t  _ want  _ it back. Not anymore. Not since Phil. 

* * *

He wakes up on his eighteenth birthday to his parents wishing him a happy birthday and handing him a card. They don’t know him enough to get him a present, but one hundred dollars fills the whole in his heart that the realization that they don’t know him enough should have left and the knowledge that one day soon they will puts a smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he says, sitting up in bed. 

“You’re officially an adult. How does it feel?” his mom asks.

“It feels very sleepy right now,” he responds.

“Oh, sorry for waking you up. We were just too excited to wait and we know it can take you forever to wake up in the morning sometimes.”

“It’s okay. Honestly.” And it is. At one point, his parents would have never been comfortable doing this, but they are now, and that means more than anything to him, even more than his sleep (and that’s saying a lot, unfortunately). Their relationship is only getting stronger, and he wouldn’t change that for the world. Even if that does mean allowing himself to be woken up early in the summer just so his parents can sing a very off key version of the happy birthday song. 

“Well, you can go back to sleep if you’d like, but I think Phil, Louise and a few other of your friends are coming over soon.”

“And your mom made some pancakes for breakfast,” his dad adds.

“I’ll be down in a minute then. You know I can’t resist pancakes.”

Once his parents have left, he puts the card on his desk and just  _ sits  _ in bed for a few, staring out his window and thinking. The last time he sat in this bed, he was a completely different person. He had walls built up around his heart to keep people from getting in and seeing how destructive he really is, but he destroyed those walls in an effort to keep them up. Now he’s laying himself bare for the world to see and openly judge and it’s a scary thought, but that’s life for you. Not everything is a walk in the park (especially not when the parks been burned down). He knows people will judge him and never look at him the same way, but his parents and Phil and Louise are the only people who really count--and maybe PJ and Chris, but he hasn’t seen them since  _ that night _ and he’s not sure if they’re ready to face Dan, if they think he’s a monster. 

He gets out of bed and heads to his door to leave, but then pauses. If he truly wants to get rid of the past, then he needs to get rid of something that will always tie him to it. He retrieves the cardboard box that he had hidden in his room and throws it in the trash can, and while he’s at it, he gets rid of the lighter, too. He doesn’t need cigarettes to keep him going anymore. That’s what his friends and family are for. 

His friends are waiting for him at the bottom of the steps.

“Surprise!” they--meaning Phil, Louise, Chris, and PJ--all yell. 

Dan looks at them in shock for a second before a smile spreads across his face. “I thought you guys weren’t coming over until later.”

“We told your parents to lie to you so it would be a surprise,” Louise says, going in for a hug. “I’ve missed you so much. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. I’ve missed you, too.”

Chris and PJ say pretty much the same thing, but don’t hug him. Phil, on the contrary, goes in for the hug and holds on tightly, whispers, “I love you,” in Dan’s ear before wishing him a happy birthday, leaving Dan to blush all over again. Louise mouths, “I told you so,” but he doesn’t respond, only blushes harder. 

“Do I still get the pancakes?” Dan asks.

“Typical man. Always thinking about food,” Louise jokes.

* * *

 

After eating, they go up to Dan’s room and he doesn’t bother to cover the contents of his garbage can, just skirts around the topic, shutting it down before it can properly come up. It’s quiet at first, like they don’t know what to say. They haven’t all hung out together in a while, and considering what happened that night, they have every reason to be unsure of themselves. Or at least that’s what Dan tells himself.

“I’m sorry we didn’t come to visit you,” PJ says, talking for both him and Chris, breaking the silence that had settled. “We know you haven’t always thought of us as friends and we were worried of stepping on toes.”

“Actually, we tried to smuggle in some porn to keep you busy, but we got caught and they wouldn’t let us back,” Chris jokes. PJ shoots him an unimpressed look and elbows him in the side. “Obviously, I’m kidding. Though I totally would have brought you some if I thought you would have liked it.”

“Why am I friends with you guys again?” Dan says, shaking his head. “Seriously.”

“So we are friends?” PJ asks.

“Of course.”

“I told you so,” Phil says, shaking his head. He’s sitting right next to Dan on his bed. PJ and Chris are on the floor, and Louise is in his desk chair, so they’re sitting in a misshapen circle. “I tried to tell them to come, but they wouldn’t. And it completely slipped my mind to ask you if you wanted them to visit when I visited. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Honestly. You guys are all here right now and that’s what counts. Though I am a little disappointed that nobody threw me a surprise party.”

“About that . . .” Louise mumbles, trailing off, not trying to hide a thing. He smiles in her direction, and something about that moment makes him feel infinite--a feeling he never truly understood before. But he can see and feel eternity stretch out all around him, and he feels comfortable with the thought of a future similar to this. 

High on joy, he reaches over and takes Phil’s hand, and because his friends are so great, nobody says a thing. But that doesn’t stop the blush from returning to his cheeks, which he’s sure will be stained red by the end of this week. 

Phil just says, “Stop trying to ruin your surprise,” and for some reason, everything just feels right in the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look i've updated within a reasonable time frame and what did i tell you--it's actually a decently long one (well, it's over 3,000 words and that's long for me. i thought about making it longer, but i didn't want to lose focus and the chapter to be all over the place). you're triple welcome (bc lets be honest this was a long awaited chapter).


	34. these memories i think i'll keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is over 5,000 words. love me. so much happens in this chapter and it lowkey kicked my butt but i worked hard on it so hopefully it was worth the wait. enjoy <3

It’s the day after his birthday, two days since he’s got out and only an hour since he’s left his house today, and he’s already gotten three quick glares, five stares, and one mother who refused to even let her kid breathe the same air as him. In other words, it’s a great day. Truly. He even hears someone refer to him as “that delinquent boy who terrorized the city” when he’s leaving the fifth store he’s been in at the mall, all in an attempt to find Phil a  _ late, late, late, late _ birthday present. Emphasis on the late part. 

He’s just about to get some food and call it a day when he walks past the bookstore in the mall. Starting there would have been a good idea--if only he had known what books Phil’s interested in. He had tossed out the idea before he even checked it out, but as he’s waiting in line to get a sandwich, he just happens to glance at the store out of the corner of his eye, barely catching the sign announcing a new book. The name doesn’t even register first, and he turns his head back around to look at the menu above him, trying to figure out what he wants. A split second later, he whips his head back around. 

On the top of a poster advertising a new book, one that he’s never even heard of, it’s a review written by the author of  _ The Perks of Being a Wallflower _ . Without even thinking, he’s taken the first step towards the store and then the next one, leaving his spot in line. Obviously, it’s not  _ the book _ . But as far as Dan as concerned, a raving review by the author of  _ the book _ comparing it to  _ the book  _ makes it almost as good. 

The bitter smell of coffee greets him almost as soon as he steps into the bookstore, and for some reason, it calms him. For a split second, everything feels right in the world. He can’t get his mind off Phil. He’s not going to try to anyway. 

The place is almost empty, save for one employee working (which in this case means sipping the coffee from the coffee shop inside the store and reading a book with her legs rested on the counter), leaving it peacefully quiet. It takes no time for him to find the book without any help as it sits on a display near the front of the store. 

The cover is all black, save for the small, uppercase white letters that spell out the title and the name of the author-- _ What Nobody Tells You (About Being a Teenager) _ by Taylor White--and scribbles. He doesn’t even read the back; he can already tell this is the book to get Phil. 

But he reads the back anyway, finds out that the story follows a freshman, a sophomore, a junior, and a senior in high school through their lives. That it’s about how hard it can be sometimes and how amazing it can be other times. How sometimes both happen feelings happen at once. 

He picks up another copy before going to check out. He can’t help himself. 

* * *

It’s not necessarily a surprise that his friends are all at his house by the time he gets back. His parents had been unusually insistent that he get out of the house for a few hours to do something, whatever that be, and when he had tried to call Phil and then Louise and, desperately, PJ and Chris, he had received frantic no’s saying they couldn’t hang out before quickly hanging up. Nor is it a surprise that his parents have chosen this specific moment to go out on a date. But that’s because they told him they wouldn’t be before he left.

Nevertheless, he can’t help the smile on his face when he opens the door and they all scream out surprise, despite not having even attempted to hide or turn off the lights, like you usually do with surprise parties. Then again, it never really was going to be much of a surprise. They all suck at keeping secrets.

He fakes a look of a surprise for a second before dropping it and moving to sit in the middle of Phil and Louise on the couch, PJ and Chris having already claimed the two armrests. 

Even though he knows why they’re here, he still asks, “What are you guys doing here?”

“We wanted to throw you a birthday party, so we threw you a party,” Louise says, shrugging her shoulders. “And your parents wanted an excuse to not have to throw you a party, so. . .”

Phil reaches across Dan to elbow her.

“I’m kidding, obviously. About the last part. Not about the wanting to throw you a party, because we did. Your parents were going to throw you one, too, but they figured you’d enjoy this one more, so they didn’t,” Louise clarifies. “You’re eighteen now. You should have a party.”

“What if I don’t want a party?”

“Well, you better act like you do because we put a lot of work into the decorations and the cake,” Chris deadpans, even though there are no decorations or cake. The living room is completely the same as it was when he left this morning, save for a few presents placed on the coffee table.

“I can tell. The attention to detail really is astonishing,” Dan says sarcastically. “I don’t know what I’ll do if the presents are as good as all of these decorations. It’ll be too much, I swear. And don’t even get me started on that cake. It looks so delicious; I just want to stuff my face with it.”

“By all means, go ahead. It is your party after all,” Chris says, wearing a huge smile on his face. 

“Remind me why I’m friends with you?” Dan asks, cocking his head to the side as if he’s looking at Chris in absolute confusion.

“I ask myself that all the time,” PJ says, shaking his head, and then, under his breath, he mumbles, “He has no filter. I swear to god.”

For the first time in a long time, Dan’s done pretending. He’s not pretending to be friends with someone. He’s not pretending to be happy or comfortable. He just is. After everything that has happened, that should be impossible. For some reason, it’s not. 

He almost wants to stop talking, pause the moment, and just stay in it--stay in the silence and the calm and forget that there is a tomorrow that’s uncertain and a future that’s even worse. But time keeps moving, forcing you forward even when all you want to do is hang back. So he keeps going.

“So when do I get to open the presents?”

“That’s funny. You think the presents are for you,” Phil says. “In case you forgot, none of you guys got me birthday presents.”

“We didn’t even know it was your birthday!” Louise responds in mock annoyance.

“When was it your birthday?” PJ asks.

“Forever ago,” Phil says. Everybody, save for Dan, has looks of shock on their face, something that definitely does not go unnoticed. “That’s what I’m saying. You guys owe me.”

“Not anymore,” Dan says, motioning towards the bag in his hand. “I just got you a present.”

“Really?” The look on Phil’s face--one of surprise and absolute happiness--makes all the walking Dan had to do just to get the one book worth it.

“Yeah, but you don’t get it now because it’s my party and I want to open _ my _ presents,” Dan insists, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. It’s all so silly and playful and he can’t help but laugh, just slightly, at the childishness of it. It’s definitely something he would have ran away from only a few months ago, but now, he embraces it with open arms. 

He looks at Phil and light is pouring in through the gap in the curtains and he looks like an angel and everything feels right--sitting here with his friends and lazily celebrating his birthday just feels like it was meant to be. 

He’s finally out of his head and in the real world, surrounded by people who care about him regardless of all the fucked up mistakes he’s made. 

* * *

“I can’t believe you actually gave me porn,” Dan says, staring at the unwrapped present on his lap with wide eyes. In front of him, courtesy of none other than Chris, is a DVD with the words  _ Hot Gay Fun  _ written across the top of it. As if the fact that he got Dan porn wasn’t enough, it was  _ gay  _ porn.

Chris shrugs his shoulders. “You’re eighteen now. It’s time you actually live.” There’s something more to his tone however that Dan just barely picks up on. The fact that it is very much about two dudes going at it is Chris saying that he’s fine with Dan in his own fucked up way. The strange part is, Dan didn’t even have to tell him--he just knew. Even though Chris jokes a lot, he’s a better friend than Dan deserves. The thought leaves a smile on his face far after it’s gone.

That doesn’t stop him from breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the card at the bottom of the box and opens it to find money in it. 

Everyone else is still trying to wrap their heads around the gift, but Dan’s already moving the box to the side to grab the next present, this one from Phil. After the last present, Dan’s not even sure what to expect anymore, but he knows what he pulls out definitely isn’t it. In his hands is a tattered, bent, read copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why the book looks so used, but Dan opens the front cover anyway, runs the tips of his fingers over the sloppily written  _ Phil _ . 

PJ and Chris--they don’t understand. But that’s okay because no one else has to. 

“Thank you. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.” Phil smiles. “I thought you’d like it.”

Louise and PJ just end up giving him money in cards (and of course, PJ’s is handmade, very artsy and creative and colorful). 

“Thank you guys. So much. I’m so lucky to have you guys as friends. Well, maybe not Chris, but. . .” Dan says, trailing off when Chris elbows him in the side. “Obviously, I’m just kidding. Seriously, I haven’t been the best friend ever and I don’t know why you guys have stuck with me anyway and I just want you guys to know how much I appreciate all of you. Honest to god.”

* * *

When everyone else has left, Dan drags Phil into his room, the bag in hand, and sits Phil down on his bed. His back turned towards Phil, he quickly stuffs his copy of the book into a drawer on his desk before turning back to face Phil and handing him the book bag.

“I’m not sure if you’ll like it,” Dan says, looking at Phil as he goes to open the bag, “but I saw it and it felt like a book you would like so I decided to get it for you since I did promise you I’d get you a late birthday present forever ago and I still haven’t.”

“You know, you didn’t have to get me anything.” As he says this, Phil pulls the book out of the bag and flips it over to read the back of it. Butterflies swarm Dan’s stomach, but he breathes in and out, imagines calmness spreading throughout him like a flood. A smile soon grows on Phil’s face. “Thank you. I think I’ll really like it. It kind of reminds me of  _ The Perks of Being a Wallflower _ .”

Dan takes a seat next to Phil on his bed (hides his smile behind words that fall from his lips without permission). “That’s actually why I got it. I saw a poster advertising it with a review written by the author of  _ The Perks _ and I know you really like that book so I got you this one.”

“Thank you so much.”

The next thing Dan knows, they’re holding hands, lying on their backs with their legs dangling over the edge, in complete silence. His heart is beating out of his chest, but at the same time, he’s relaxed, like this is how it’s supposed to be. When he first met Phil, he would have never guessed he would develop feelings for the guy--hell, he didn’t even think they’d be friends--but he can’t say he regrets his choices. If Louise was good for one thing, it was pushing him to befriend Phil because it’s quickly becoming one of the best things he’s ever done. 

“I can’t believe we only met back in January,” Phil says randomly. “It feels like forever ago.”

“I know. I feel like a completely different person. Like I can’t even relate to who I was a few months ago.”

“Any regrets?”

“None at all.” Dan’s about to say something else--about how sure he has regrets, but not about anything significant, except for his biggest regret which he’s not sure he’d really want to change because who is to say that he’d be so close with Phil if he hadn’t tried so hard to pull away because of a stupid secret he tried too hard to keep to himself that it ended up blowing up in his face--when Phil sits up, pulling Dan up with him because of their connected hands.

“We should go,” he blurts out.

“Where?”

“On a date.” 

Dan looks at him out of the corner of his eye and tilts his head, confused. “Are you asking me out? Because you kind of already asked me out on a date and I said yes.”

Phil shakes his head, lets out a breathy laugh. “No, I’m saying we should go on that date. Now.”

“Oh okay. Where?”

“You’ll see.” Phil pulls Dan up and they’re practically running to Phil’s car, Dan struggling to keep up with Phil. It’s the kind of moment where you laugh and smile and you don’t even realize you’re doing it and you can’t even remember what it’s like to be sad for just one second and the smile on your face is as real as it gets, brighter than the sun, and your eyes are lit up with joy. It’s the kind of moment where you know it’s going to be okay. 

* * *

“A soup kitchen?” Dan asks, staring at the building in front of them. Dan didn’t even know there was a soup kitchen anywhere around here, but yet, here they are, parked in front of a building offering free food to everyone in need. Now, Dan totally hasn’t spent his free time imagining where their date would be and how it would go, but this is definitely not what he had imagined--well, if he were imagining, that is.

“I know it’s a bit of an unusual date, but I’ve always thought it be cute to take somebody to a soup kitchen. It’s a great way to give back and it really shows you if the person has a kind heart or not--if they’re willing to spend a date helping others rather than helping themselves,” Phil says, shrugging his shoulders, the hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” _ It’s just that they might. I’m not exactly well liked in this town. Not after what happened. I don’t think you realize how many people looked at me funny just in the time it took me to find you a gift.  _ He speaks his thoughts without even realizing it.

“Don’t worry. Nobody will care, and this is the perfect way to show people that you’re more than the sum of your mistakes.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Hesitantly, Dan climbs out of Phil’s car. It takes no time for them to be walking side by side and for Phil to take a hold of Dan’s hand and squeeze, effectively making Dan blush. 

Nobody bats an eye as the door chimes and the two of them walk in. Granted, it hasn’t even started serving dinner yet, so that’s probably why. The dining area  is empty save for a few people seated at the tables and watching the television. Besides that, the only people around are those behind the counter rushing to finish preparing the meal before people start arriving with empty stomachs and begging eyes. 

An older lady in a hair net is the first one to notice them. She looks up from the counter which she had been scrubbing with a washcloth and offers the two boys a warm smile.

“Hi, Phil. I haven’t seen you in a while,” she says with a heavy English accent, setting the washcloth down on the counter. 

“Yeah, sorry about that, Georgina,” he responds, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve been busy.”

“It’s okay, dear. I was just starting to worry, is all. Who’s this you got here?” She motions towards Dan slightly. 

“Oh, this is Dan. We thought we’d come and help out.” Dan smiles in response to being brought into the conversation, but doesn’t say anything, too shocked by what’s going on. He’s known Phil for the better half of the year, and he’s only now learning that he--at least at one point--went regularly to a soup kitchen to help out. Phil’s always seemed too nice, but this is a-whole-nother level. 

“Well, what are you waiting for. Get back here. You know where the hair nets are and what to do,” Georgina says, starting to scrub away at the counters once again. 

Phil leads him back behind the counter and to a closet with various supplies inside--including hair nets.

“I didn’t know you’ve been here before,” Dan says, in awe.

“It never came up,” Phil answers, shrugging. 

Dan wants to tell Phil that this bit of knowledge makes Dan fall that much more in love with Phil, but he can’t seem to get the words out, so he just smiles and puts on the hair net that Phil hands him, eager to do what he can to help out. 

“Since it’s kind of late to help make the food, they’re probably going to just have us serving so those who have been here helping cook for most of the day can come home and relax,” Phil explains. “They don’t start serving for another thirty minutes, so we can just help if somebody needs it, but really, we probably won’t have much to do until it’s dinner time.”

As it just so happens, Phil’s right--they don’t really have anything to do until they start serving, so they just end up sitting around with Georgina, listening to the stories she has to tell about volunteering here for so long, ever since she moved here from England a while back. Almost everybody else leaves when it is time, which leaves Phil, Dan, and Georgina to serve everybody.

Dan’s not sure what he expected, but a line that extends all the way out of the building definitely isn’t it. He’d be worried that they didn’t make enough food, but he’s pretty sure they made enough to feed an army if the many pots filled with spaghetti are anything to go by. 

Because Dan’s new and inexperienced with just how much he should give each person, he gets to hand out the garlic bread, which is easy enough because you only have to give one piece to each person. Phil’s passing out the spaghetti, which puts him right next to Dan, and Georgina is dealing with the salad, putting her at the very end of the line, right next to the cups that people get to take to fill up with water or milk or coffee. 

The best part is that no one says anything about his past and his mistakes to him. They just say thank you to him like they have no clue who he is--and they probably don’t. They have their own lives and problems to worry about. So they just say thank you when he puts the toast on their plate and then they move onto Phil to get the pasta. 

Busy with serving, he doesn’t even get to talk to Phil, but seeing the smile on Phil’s face and how he interacts with some of these long-term customers has his heart swelling.

“Oh, Phil, I haven’t seen you in forever!” one girl, no older than eight, says, almost screaming in excitement. “I’ve missed you! You promise you’ll be back again soon, right?”

“Of course I will!” he says, just as enthusiastically.

“Good because it’s my birthday soon and you have to get me a gift, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”

A lot of little kids seem to be friends with Phil, and as each one expresses their excitement about seeing him again, Dan’s smile only grows bigger and he has to restrain himself from reaching and grabbing Phil’s hand, knowing that it would make doing their jobs harder. And if there weren’t a bunch of little kids around, he’d probably make out with Phil, too. 

He’s tired of being hesitant around Phil. He has no reason to. They’ve been friends for a while now, and so what that they both have feelings for each other. If their relationship is to progress, they’ll have to jump over that hurdle sooner rather than later. With that in mind, Dan promises himself that he’ll kiss Phil at the end of their date if Phil doesn’t kiss him first. 

It’s a while before the line comes to an end, but Dan hardly even notices how long they’ve been there, high on happiness and joy. Before he realizes it, they’re cleaning up and almost everyone has left the building with full stomachs and thankful smiles. 

“What’d you think?” Phil asks as they’re washing the dishes. Georgina is mopping the floor of the dining area, so it’s pretty much just them all alone together. “Did you have fun?”

“This is probably the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” Dan answers honestly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew you would. And I told you nobody would care about what you did.” 

Dan looks at Phil like he has no clue what he’s talking about. “I wasn’t even worried that somebody would.”

Phil rolls his eyes before saying, “Oh, of course. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was talking about.”

“Neither do I. I think you’re going a bit crazy, babe,” Dan says, letting the word slip out without even realizing it.

“Babe?”

He’s about to apologize profusely, swear he didn’t mean it, when he remembers his promise to himself from earlier. “Yeah. Babe.” 

Phil doesn’t complain, just turns away from looking at Dan and starts focusing on washing the dishes, a huge smile on his face. 

It fades into silence again, and they’re making good progress with Phil actually washing the dishes and Dan rinsing and drying them off when all of the sudden soap hits the side of Dan’s face. Quickly, Dan brings his hand up to his face and wipes it off, only to then take the soap that’s left and wipe it all over Phil’s shirt, an evil smile on his face.

“Oh, game on!” Phil says, grabbing more soap and blowing it towards Dan. In return, Dan pulls out the nozzle and turns it on Phil, soaking him. The next thing Dan knows, he’s covered in soapy water, Phil having used one of the pans he was cleaning to scoop up some water and dump it on Dan.

“Oh no you didn’t!” Dan shouts and Phil runs across the kitchen to the other side, hiding behind the island that separates the two sides. Dan runs around, but Phil’s quick and is on the opposite side when Dan reaches where Phil once stood. 

They’re still running in circles trying to get one another when Georgina comes in and lets out a shocked gasp.

“I’m so sorry!” Phil says immediately. “We didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay!” Georgina laughs. “Just make sure to get this cleaned up, okay?”

She turns back around, and Dan can just faintly hear her mumbling to herself about young love and how cute they are. He can’t even try to hide the blush.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Dan says. “Getting in trouble.”

“Oh, shut up,” Phil jokes, walking back over to the sink. “You started this.”  
Dan follows him and says, “Did not. You’re the one who put soap on me first!”

“Did to. You totally didn’t have to retaliate.”

“Did not. What was I supposed to do? And you retaliated, too!”

Clearly realizing that he’s between a rock and hard place, Phil says, “Just shut up and finish rinsing the dishes.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

It takes them a half an hour to finish washing the dishes and to dry off the floors, and after saying a quick goodbye to Georgina, they’re out of the door and Phil still hasn’t kissed him. Not ready to give up on his promise to himself, he stops Phil when they’re right next to his car and tugs at his hand so they’re facing each other. Without hesitating, he places his hands on Phil’s face, pulling him closer, until their lips are almost touching. It’s Phil who moves the final bit closer and then they’re kissing, not even trying to be shy about it. It’s not the stereotypical sparks he expected to feel, but it’s something better, a sense of feeling whole, like this was meant to be, right here and right now. 

When Dan finally pulls away, Phil just smiles--nothing has to be said. They just look into each other's eyes for a few seconds, and then they kiss one more time, this time just a quick peck before they step apart. 

Dan’s not sure if it’s an in the moment type of thing, but the next thing he knows, Phil says, “Will you be my boyfriend?” And he doesn’t even try and stop himself from sounding  _ a little too _ into the idea this time around. 

* * *

This time when he gets home, his parents are home and apparently, someone else is, too, because there is a car he’s never seen before in the driveway. He kisses Phil goodbye quickly before going inside. His parents are sitting in the kitchen talking to each other, but they stop what they’re doing when they see him.

“Who else is here?” he asks, walking towards them.

“What do you mean?” his dad says, looking and sounding very confused. “Nobody else is here.”

“Then who’s car is that in the driveway? Did you guys get a new car?” Dan takes a seat next to them, where he sees keys with a red ribbon wrapped around them.

“ _ We  _ didn’t get a new car,” his mom says. It doesn’t take him long to piece what they’re saying and when realization dawns on his face, his mom then says, “Surprise!”

Even though he got his license forever ago, his parents never trusted him with a car. They haven’t since he was sixteen, and he didn’t think they ever would start. He can’t say he blamed them either, at least now that he’s in a mature state of mind, because he realizes that they were probably right, but he didn’t think they’d start trusting him now, after everything that has happened so recently. 

“What?” he practically screams in excitement. 

“Well, your dad and I figured that you’re eighteen now, so you’re old enough to have a car, and even though you’ve given us many reasons not to trust you with one, you’ve also given us so many reasons why we should. We know you’ve made mistakes, but you’re trying to fix them and that’s the kind of responsibility that it takes to own a car,” his mom says, smiling. “Happy birthday!” He doesn’t waste time--immediately jumping up to give her a hug and then walking around the table to give his dad one, too. 

“But you already got me a birthday present,” he responds, dumbfounded.

“The money was just something to throw you off our tracks, and when your friends came over, we wasted some time just shopping and then went and picked up your car. We would have given it to you yesterday, but we felt like teasing you,” his dad responds. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me? I love it! Thank you so much!”

His dad hands him the keys. “Well, why don’t you take it for a spin?” He grabs them and heads for the door. Before opening it, he turns around and asks, “Are you guys coming or what?”

His parents smile and get up. His mom even calls shotgun, causing him to roll his eyes playfully. His parents are so weird, but he loves them. 

The car isn’t brand new, but you can hardly the tell. There are no scrapes in the navy blue paint or dents on the side, and the leather seats on the inside look like they’ve never been sat in at all. It’s clean, too, with no stains in sight.

“Thank you again. So much,” he says once they’re all in the car before starting it. “Seriously, this means so much to me. You guys have no idea.”

He had thought the money was a sign that they didn’t know him--and maybe it still was. They didn’t know what else to get him to distract him from his real present, but this car proves to him that they know him a lot better than he thought and they trust him a lot more than he thought, too. 

“You’re welcome, son,” his dad says, smiling in the back seat.

“You deserve it,” his mom adds, a grin just as bright on her face. 

* * *

That night, he doesn’t even think about every mistake he’s made when he goes to bed. He just thinks about how much his life has changed in such a short time and how he wouldn’t go back even if you paid him. He’s finally happy, and that’s what counts, so he falls asleep with a smile on his face in a room that used to make him feel like fire--hot and angry, destructive and willing to destroy anything in his way. Now, he’s the house rebuilt after a fire, alive and new, different and yet still the same.

He thinks about how Phil’s his boyfriend and how his parents are his parents again and how Louise is still his friend after everything they’ve gone through and how he has Chris and PJ, too, now. But mainly, he thinks about how he’s made memories he actually wants to hold onto and he doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. 


	35. the last day

Dan wakes up to the sound of snoring and the warm embrace of a still sleeping Phil, who had stayed over the night before after a long night of them hanging out, leading both of them to lose track of the time. Not ready to wake up completely and face the day, he rolls over and presses his face into the crook of Phil’s neck and closes his eyes, feels Phil’s arms tighten around him, keeping him in place. If there is one thing that he hates just as much as the thought of his friends leaving him in a few days to go off to college and start their new lives, it’s the thought of waking up early during break, when he can see the darkness at the end of the sunny day and feel the freedom slipping away. Even though he’s not going to college--he didn’t have to check his mailbox to know that he had lost the chance of getting out of here anytime soon when he decided to set the world on fire--he knows once break is over and his friends go off to college, he’ll need to find something productive to do with his life. Like get a job. And finish writing _ Not On Fire _ . Generally just do things he won’t ever finish if he lets himself slip away into sleep every chance he gets. 

There’s no off button, unfortunately, to Phil’s snoring, which now that he’s awake, he can’t help but notice, so he’s stuck in between wanting so desperately to fall asleep and knowing that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. And shoving his face right next to the source of the problem definitely isn’t making it any better. 

“Dan, you need to get up,” his mother says, knocking at the door. “Your friends are here.”

A year ago he would have said he didn’t care, but today, he finds himself saying, “Tell them I’ll be down in a second. I need to wake up Phil first.”

His mom doesn’t bother to open the door to check to make sure he’s going to do what he says he is, and Dan can just lightly hear the soft sound of retreating footsteps, signalling that his mom has left. 

He pauses for a moment, unsure of what to do. Phil’s grip around him is vice-like, unbreakable, arms wrapped around him so tight like Phil’s afraid he’s going to lose him. His arms are wrapped around Phil, making it almost impossible for him to pull away to shake him due to their proximity. 

But when he gets the idea, his body moves on autopilot, bringing his lips to Phil’s for a quick kiss, a stereotypical-romantic-as-fuck way to wake someone up, and yet, here he is. And it’s not working. Phil continues to snore, tighten his hold on Dan, unaware of the world around him that is awake and alive and moving, not bothering to wait for him at all. 

“Wake up!” he shouts, doing his best to shake Phil (which isn’t that good, admittedly) in the position that they’re in, but Phil is dead to the world, eyes sealed shut, mind locked in the middle of a dream he’s not ready to leave. “Come on, Phil. Wake up! Louise and PJ and Chris are all here!”

“Shh,” Phil mumbles, but the soft tone in which their spoken makes it clear that they are not a conscious person’s words, but those of someone too tired to leave the grasps of sleep’s comforting cradle. “Sleep.”

This isn’t the first time Phil’s slept over at Dan’s, so Dan’s no stranger to how much of deep sleeper Phil is, but he’s also never had the misfortune of trying to wake him up. He asked one time how to do it, and Phil only pretended to seal his lips shut as he smile as if he knew what Dan was getting for Christmas and could only just keep himself from spilling the details. Yet no tickling would ever replace the key that Phil threw away, even if he looked like he was about to burst, with the taste of a secret on the tip of his tongue, torn between wanting to share it and savor it all by himself. 

He tries pulling away again, but Phil’s grip becomes stronger somehow, leaving their chests pressed up against each other as close as humanly possible with not even a sliver of a gap between the two. Which makes breathing interestly, to say the least.

“Phil, you’re going to kill me if you don’t wake up right this instant!” Dan says, trying to make his voice sound urgent, as if death really is looming overhead, but Phil just breathes in and out, unaware. 

Giving up on being cute, Dan kicks Phil in the leg the best that he can while lying on his side like this. 

“Oww!” Phil shrieks, opening his eyes and pulling away from Dan. “What was that for?”

Dan shrugs his shoulders, seeming innocent. “You wouldn’t wake up.”

“So you decided to kick me?”

“Figured the pain would work, and look, it did. Our friends are here, by the way.”

Phil rubs the sleep out of his eyes and stretches. His voice is soft, the hint of his sleepiness still present in it, as he says, “And you couldn’t just let me sleep because . . . ?”

“You wouldn’t let me go. I kept trying to move away, but every single time I did, you only tightened to your grip. I tried to wake you up all cute like, with kisses and shit, but you were dead to the world. Had to resort to kicking, had no other choice,” Dan says innocently, blinking up at Phil, trying to mimic the sweet, angelic look. 

Phil give Dan a quick kiss before stretching and climbing out of bed.

“How long have you been up?” Phil asks, watching as Dan pulls the covers off and sits up, facing away from him.

“Just a few minutes. You snore. Really loud.”

“I know,” Phil says, laughing. “You tell me every time I sleep over.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Dan looks up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, sleepily. “We seriously do need to hurry up. Our friends are waiting.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

“Already am, babe,” Phil says, walking around so Dan can see him. Sure enough, he’s now wearing one of Dan’s shirts--black with a white ring of light in the center, an eclipse--and a pair of black jeans. “Better question would be are you?”

“ _ Yes _ . But I thought you were changing and I wanted to give you your privacy.”

Phil shakes his head slightly, letting out a small chuckle. “Just get dressed already.” He sits down next to DAn, facing the door, and Dan walks behind him and, after checking to make sure Phil isn’t looking, gets changed.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. But they’ve only been dating for a little over two months now, and the furthest they’ve gone is a heated make-out. That’s it. Dan’s never felt so vulnerable before. So bare emotionally and mentally that his only hope to keep something to himself is to not let Phil see him so bare physically, too. 

Once he’s gotten dressed, he walks back to Phil, and they head down the stairs hand in hand. Simple. Sweet. And yet, Dan still gets butterflies in his stomach even now. 

All of their friends are sitting on the couch in the living, so busy in the middle of a conversation that they don’t even notice that Dan and Phil are down there for a few seconds. Louise is the first to realize. She lifts her head up just slightly, catching Dan’s eye, before saying, “About dang time you guys got your asses down here.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Sorry, but this one”--he motions towards Phil with his hands--“doesn’t understand the concept of waking up this early in summer so I had to practically wrestle him awake.”

“Oh don’t even,” Phil replies, shaking his head. “If you had tried harder, you would have woken me up a lot sooner.”

“I think my eyes might actually roll back into my head,” Dan deadpans.

He drops Phil’s hand, walks over and squeezes down next to Louise on the couch, half sitting on the edge and half on her. Phil sits down on top of him, all goofy smiles. 

“God,” PJ says, “you’re so domestic that it actually hurts.”

“You’re just mad I don’t let you sit on me like that,” Chris chimes in and winks. At that, PJ shoves him slightly, and, dramatically, Chris slumps over, his hand held over his heart. “That hurts. That really hurts.” Everything is just so stupid, but they’re still laughing anyway, holding their stomachs with tears forming in their eyes. 

It goes silent for a while. Nobody is looking at anybody. The laughter had created a barrier around them, protecting them from reality, but it’s sudden disappearance--the way it always happens: a steady progression as it slowly fades away and then the fact that you’re not laughing anymore just hits you like a ton of bricks--feels just like running into a glass wall so fast you knock over. 

Louise is leaving for Iowa State; PJ is going to film school in California; Chris is going away to New York for some acting college. And Phil--he’s staying right here to get his associates at the community college. Everyone’s lives are moving on, diverging from this one spot, but he’s stuck in place, unable to take a step forward or backward. 

It’s looming overhead--a dark storm cloud on the horizon. No longer can it be ignored, and the weight of it all is heavy on their shoulders tonight. Suffocating. That’s the only way he can describe it. Except, he’s breathing better than ever, taking it in like he’s going to die tomorrow. 

Dan never thought he’d be in this position. Surrounded by his friends and his boyfriend. Dreading a day that’s already come and past. To scared to put one foot in front of another and move forward. 

“I can’t believe you guys are leaving in a week,” Dan mumbles, so quiet he’s not even sure if they can hear him, but somehow, they do. Louise averts her eyes, and PJ looks down at his lap. Chris is the only one who looks at him, stares really.

“It’s not like we’re going to forget you. I don’t know about the others but I’m going to be calling you at least three times a day and I expect handwritten letters every week. And the same goes for you, too, Phil,” he says out of nowhere. Hesitantly, Dan smiles, but he suspects shock is written all over his face. Sure, this summer, they’ve grown a lot closer, but it’s hard to know if other people see you the same way you see them. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Dan says. And then he smiles--genuine and bright and happy. 

“Good,” Louise declares, “because I expect the same, and if it doesn’t happen, I’m assuming you’re dead and coming all the way back here.”

“Ditto,” PJ sings. 

This moment, and everything about it, screams normal, and for once, Dan just doesn’t give a fuck. He knows his friends are going to leave him, but that doesn’t mean the end of the world or even their friendship, for that matter. And yes, he’s had a door slammed in his face, but another one has opened. He has all the time in the world to write now and hang out with Phil and his family.

He has everything he could have ever wanted and more, and he doesn’t feel the need to ignite his flame and burn his surroundings down. The fire inside of him has dwindled out of existence. Now, all he’s left with is the charred remains of who he once was. And he’s determined to find away to make flowers grow out of the rubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short and probably all over the place and i'm too emotional to think of anything better to say. i'll try to finish the epilogue soon, but in the mean time, I have the synopses up for two new stories (well, not really) on my wattpad (ctrling)--there's Pitfalls (which is basically an extended, better developed version of my one-shot The Stars of Tomorrow which can be found on here) and then there's Beautiful, Immortal (which is just slightly altered from what it was originally so there's more room for depth and development)--as well as like an opening poem?? Idk what to call it.They're pretty rad so you should check them out. 
> 
> also, i feel like we should celebrate me actually finishing my first ever chaptered story so yeah. 
> 
> (did anybody notice the parallelism between the beginning of this chapter and the beginning of the first chapter or has it taken me so long to write this that you've forgotten everything that's happened?)


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